<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Assassin Among Heroes by DarkscytheDrake</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25051030">Assassin Among Heroes</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkscytheDrake/pseuds/DarkscytheDrake'>DarkscytheDrake</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Assassin's Creed - All Media Types, Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night &amp; Related Fandoms, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Crossover, Death, Disturbing scenes, Drama, F/M, Fantasy, Moral Dilemmas, POV First Person, Pairing undecided, Rating May Change, Superheroes, Urban Fantasy, Vigilantism, possible Assassin's Creed crossover</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:53:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>22,678</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25051030</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkscytheDrake/pseuds/DarkscytheDrake</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Heroes...they all miss the bigger picture...they conform to society, they limit themselves. I'm tired of this. I have been given a chance. I too shall be a hero...but not like them. Beware villains...the Evening Bell has tolled thy name...and the world shall know: the Assassin has risen from the grave. First-person OC (no SI). Rating may change due to death.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi, I'm Darkscythe Drake. Before you read this, I should say a few things:</p><p>I love My Hero Academia. The world and characters that Horikoshi-sensei created are an amazing take on the superhero genre and an excellent way of adapting it to the manga/anime world. The messages and lessons that All-Might and the cast teach inspire me every time I read them, both in canon and fanfiction.</p><p>Which is why you might be surprised by what I'm writing. To be fair, this is written at midnight after reading some pretty good MHA fanfics and playing a certain mobile game involving heroes (3 guesses what, cookies will be rewarded), but this fic is a projection of my feelings and frustrations towards most of the superhero genre, specifically in regards to one issue that I have seen pop up time and time again and has appeared and been debated countless times since the dawn of superhero comics. MHA falls in that category, and certain fics make that one of their main points.</p><p>Also, very few BNHA describe what I'm about to do so, point for me...</p><p>Warning: this is an OC-centric fic, so it may seem a bit off-putting, but I can assure I will do my best to make sure he doesn't fall into Gary-Stu territory, and if he will seem OP...well, in this case, it's kind of the idea.</p><p>What is this issue? Well, read and find out...</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Heroes are wrong."</p><p>The mid-aged woman puts the paper down on her desk and looks at me with a half-amused, half-puzzled gaze. "Well, I have to say, I should've expected this from you, but you manage to find a new way to reach the bottle don't you?"</p><p>I shrug at her, a little annoyed at the sardonic tone she was using. It doesn't matter how many times she says it, it won't make it change. Unless there's some bizarre Quirk that can do that.</p><p>She notices my gesture and made a 'tsk', but doesn't comment otherwise. She lifts the paper again and continues, her brown eyes following the words I wrote with precision, eyebrows lifting and dropping as she spoke:</p><p>"It's undeniable that the Heroic Age has brought peace and prosperity to the world. The rise of the Pro Hero has all but stopped wars between countries. These licensed individuals who use their powers daily to stop crime and defeat villains have inspired others to follow in their footsteps, ensuring this cycle of prosperity keeps flowing. Just like other people, I admire them, but all the heroes today lack something that could truly help them stop villainy once and for all:</p><p>They refuse to put their morals behind what needs to be done.</p><p>An example of this is a case from 10 years ago where Pro Hero Edgeshot confronted the serial killer Bloodstring. The villain in question murdered a dozen and a half <em>innocent children</em> by pulling them apart and leaving them hanging by their <em>veins</em>. This man did it with no remorse and was sound of mind at the time. Furthermore, when the police and the hero confronted him, he managed to grab an officer and do the same thing. He did it in front of police witnesses and there was even a recording, yet Edgeshot still fought to incapacitate him. He did so in the end, with the help of additional Pro Heroes and the villain was imprisoned.</p><p>The villain's motivations were clear and he even confessed to it in court.</p><p>If so, then why wasn't Edgeshot allowed to kill him?</p><p>And not just in cases like that either. If the system makes it impossible for a man to be convicted, then wouldn't it be more efficient to eliminate them before they can do more damage?</p><p>What I'm trying to ask is this:</p><p><em>Why can't heroes be permitted to kill?</em>"</p><p>The woman puts down the paper and looks at me with an incredulous expression before rubbing her forehead in frustration. "Talk about your problem student..." she mutters. She puts the paper down again and looks me in the eye.</p><p>"Didn't we talk about this before Ogawa-kun?"</p><p>I pretend to think for a moment before shaking my head. "Nope, not really."</p><p>By the way, my name is Ritsu Ogawa, and the woman wearing a suit and tie in front of me looking like she swallowed a fly-infested lemon - if you haven't figured it out - is my teacher, Makoto-sensei.</p><p>She opens her mouth to say something, before doing an imitation of a fish and sighing in exasperation.</p><p>
  <em>'Oh boy, here she goes...'</em>
</p><p>"Ogawa-kun, I think we can agree you're a bright student. You do well in your studies - although your spelling could stand some improvement - and you try not to get into trouble. You can get into almost any college you want if you keep your studies up and I'm sure that any of them would be proud to have you as a student.</p><p>But what I don't get is your fascination with these...<em>subjects!</em>"</p><p>She gestures to the paper wildly, and I do feel some guilt. She's not a bad teacher by any means and she's just looking out for my well-being. Or trying to.</p><p>"Tell me, what was the topic of this essay?"</p><p>"I think it was 'Make a suggestion to improve any one specific division of the government'. That's what I did."</p><p>"I know that. Pro Heroes are part of the government after all, and I don't think there is anyone in the class who <em>didn't</em> choose a hero-related topic. But what I don't understand is why you chose a subject that's so...extreme!"</p><p>"You asked for a suggestion for improvement. I gave one. What's the big deal? It's not like I'm suggesting genocide or military police like Hitler."</p><p>Makoto-sensei looked gobsmacked for a second, but then she sighs again and slightly leans forward, her arms folded on the desk.</p><p>"You know why this can't happen right?"</p><p>Unfortunately, yes. "Fear of authority abuse, denial of due process, some ethical/moral reason and calming the masses, among other things?"</p><p>She frowns at the last one but doesn't comment. "More or less. Even if the person is as heinous as the one you mentioned, everyone deserves a fair trial and their due process to completely ensure if they're guilty or innocent. This isn't the Middle Ages; we have to be better than the criminals."</p><p>A small sigh escapes from my lips as I bite my lip and feel my fists tightening. I <em>know</em> why it's like that, I get it!</p><p>So why do I...?</p><p>Sensei takes one last look at the paper and puts it in the drawer. "Despite my reservations, I'll allow this and I won't show this to anyone, if only because you <em>did </em>technically complete the assignment.</p><p>But <em>please</em> don't mention anything like this again. I don't want the principal or any of the other teachers to start asking questions."</p><p>My shoulders loosen as I nod and pick up my bag. I head out the door when sensei speaks.</p><p>"Ogawa-kun?"</p><p>I turn around to meet her worried expression, an ever so tiny hint of a plea in her eyes.</p><p>"Just...please be careful. I don't want you getting into trouble over things like this."</p><p>I smile slightly and nod again.</p><p>"Don't worry, Makoto-sensei. I promise I won't do anything stupid."</p><p>With those words, I head out the door.</p><hr/><p>Well, I should have seen that talk coming, but I really couldn't help it.</p><p>If they want to make me write essays, then I should at least write it my own way. Even if most people disagree with it, and they don't have to, it is <em>my </em>opinion. No one can make me change it.</p><p>Those are my thoughts as I head down the street leading to the subway station. It's afternoon, so there are a lot of students like me around, shopping, studying, eating or doing whatever they want. I don't blame them; it's natural to seek those things after long hours of sitting down and listening to some grown-up mumble about something that is either completely boring or interesting but explained in a way that makes you want to jump off a bridge. Heck, that's what I'm doing now!</p><p>
  <em>'Let's see...I did some of the work on recess, so I should have some time to stop for a visit and some ice-cream. Mom's coming late today, so that's a bonus.'</em>
</p><p>My mind made up, I reach the station and board the train. Luckily, I found an excellent seat, so I had some time to relax before getting off. The train had gone through a couple of stations when the small TV on the train flashed and a female reporter's voice blared through the speakers.</p><p>"This just in: the notorious villain group Akanagi has been apprehended near the lower Shinjuku district. Early reports from the scene state that a tip from an unknown source led to the police raiding a reported safehouse of the gang with Pro Heroes Midnight and Miruko. The confrontation between the two forces lasted from 10 to 15 minutes, with the villains countering many of the equipment the authorities brought with them."</p><p>The screen showed an image of several hooded men being led into the back of police cars.</p><p>"The group, which was first sighted around a year ago, dabbled in various criminal ventures, the most prominent one being illegal organ trading. While the source of their 'merchandise' is unconfirmed, it is widely believed that they kidnap innocent unfortunates such as homeless people off the streets or through human trafficking. Authorities have been chasing them down ever since, with the group evading capture until now thanks to coded messages and other means. I, for one, thank the heroes and the police for finally capturing these menaces to society and I'm sure the people of our city feel the same."</p><p>My eyes narrow at the news report, a burst of frustration flowing down my veins. Traffickers; pure scum - right up there with rapists and serial killers. Why were people like these allowed to live? Didn't people realize that by letting them live, other villains just keep coming?</p><p>I shook my head from such thoughts as the train slowed down at my destination. I got up from my seat with my bag and left, making my way through the station and climbing outside. The view of the street greeted me, much quieter than before. One of the reasons I like this neighborhood.</p><p>I stopped to buy some ice cream - cookies and cream naturally since I would accept no other flavor - and walked for a bit until I stood before a small, 3-story building. It had an old Middle-eastern look to it - Andalusian if I recall - with stained-glass windows and arches. Two pools flanked a small flight of stairs that led to the main entrance. Next to it was a sign that read: <strong>Collection of World History.</strong></p><p>I walked up the stairs, pausing for a moment to look down at the pool, my reflection staring back at me. Anything out of place? Let's see...black hair? Still has that white streak (au naturel of course). Eyes? Pale blue as always (some of the kids tell me that I can freeze people just by looking if I get pissed - cool thought, not my Quirk). Face? Slightly angular...and an ice cream stain near my lips.</p><p>It's gone.</p><p>I head into the Collection, nodding a greeting at the clerk who responded the same. I walked through the sand-colored hallways and gazed at the various artifacts, a calm smile appearing on my face. Apart from my room, this place is my favorite hangout.</p><p>A few years ago, this rich philanthropist opened this place up seemingly overnight. I think he was some sort of archaeologist because he had all sorts of artifacts, paintings, and books from all over the world and from all of the different periods. A lot of people came at first - I think it was because of the free admission - but now it just trickled down to a few people a day, and me? I fell in love with this place. I've always been interested in old-world history, and when I saw bits and pieces of what it was like back then, and not just through a textbook or a computer, I was hooked. I come here at least twice a week, every week for the past few years and I'm familiar with the staff; namely the janitor, the doorman, and the clerk.</p><p>Huh, now that I think about it, three people manning a museum this size?...must be efficient guys.</p><p>As usual, there was no-one inside. No-one cares for history or museums anymore ever since Quirks were revealed; most of the 'history' these days focus on the dawn of the Hero Age and the various heroes that were in it. Nobody cares about what some Quirkless people did a thousand years ago.</p><p>If you haven't figured out by now, friends are not my strongest suit.</p><p>Oh well, I don't mind. I like it quiet.</p><p>I kept walking slowly through the hall, turning corners and admiring the collection when something tall caught my eye. At the end of the hall was a tall glass cabinet; one I'm positive I haven't seen before. I picked up my pace in anticipation and let a small grin appear. New exhibits were always interesting.</p><p>I came to a stop in front of the cabinet and was...a bit confused at what I saw.</p><p>Inside the cabinet was a large grey broadsword, as tall as I was. Its pommel was capped by a skull and a blue sash was wrapped just above the handle and around the widest part of the blade, held together by what looked like nails. The edges of the blade were black, a sharp yet smooth contrast to the sword's grey. The top half of the sword looked fine and shiny, but the point of the blade and the area surrounding it were rusty and dirtied by what looked like dried-out bloodstains. But what was odd about it was that the longer I looked at the sword, the more I started to feel a sense of...unease. There was a cold aura around it that made my skin crawl, and I have no idea why I didn't take a step back. But nope, I just kept looking at it, seemingly entranced by its qualities.</p><p>"Enjoying the new addition?"</p><p>"AHH!" I quickly jumped and turned around. Smirking in front of me was a tall man, wearing a black coat and white gloves. He held a cane in his hands and his posture was relaxed. He looked European and had a short grey beard and red eyes that seemed to twinkle in amusement. I haven't seen him before in the museum; was he a newcomer? Where did he come from?</p><p>"U-um, yeah, it's a very interesting sword." The old man just chuckled and waved his hand in dismissal before replying in perfect Japanese.</p><p>"No, no, you don't have to hide it. I'm aware that this sword can be rather...unnerving. Most people that saw it would've moved on by now. What made you stay?"</p><p>What an odd question. He seemed polite though, so it would be rude not to answer.</p><p>"I don't know, there's something...magnetic about it. It's creepy sure but...it's obviously seen a lot of use, and yet it hasn't been thrown away. Even better, it's like saying...' I'm old and broken and I've done it.'"</p><p>"' It?'" I gesture to the sword in response.</p><p>"Survived, I guess."</p><p>The old man's smile grew as he let out another chuckle. "That is certainly a unique way to put it, young man. What's your name?"</p><p>"Ritsu Ogawa" The man took a step forward, stretched his hand out and said:</p><p>"Well, young Ogawa, you can call me Zelretch, and I am the owner of this quaint little museum."</p><p>My mouth opened in shock; this was the museum's owner? No one had seen before, not even when the museum first opened!</p><p>"Pleased to meet you, Zelretch-san! I'm a huge fan of this place!" I said enthusiastically as I shook his hand.</p><p>"I thought you might be. My clerk has been telling me that you've been coming here all the time. I thought I might see the one who's been so interested in my collection."</p><p>A small blush heats my cheeks. "It's no big deal. Surely other people come here."</p><p>"Not as much as you, though."</p><p>Huh...really? That was...a little sad to know. But I must have shown it on my face because Zelretch patted my shoulder.</p><p>"I made this collection so people could look and appreciate it. If I know at least one person has done that, then that's enough for me."</p><p>Really? My lips twitched upwards as I felt a small burst of pride. Zelretch just kept smiling and turned his eyes to the sword. I did the same, and we stared at it for a minute, the unnerving aura seemingly gone.</p><p>I looked up and down the sword when I noticed that there was no plaque or writing on the case. I turned to Zelretch and asked:</p><p>"Zelretch-san? What is this sword? It's just that there's no plaque and -"</p><p>"An excellent question and the reason for that is..." He paused dramatically "...I just haven't put one yet."</p><p>If this were an anime, I would've face-vaulted. That's it? Why did you pause like that then?</p><p>"This sword was found in the north of Iran, or Persia as it was called then, in the region of Alamut. The historians there say that it was dug from the ruins of an old fortress, but they didn't seem to trace to who used. The sword unnerved them though, so they were happy to give it to me."</p><p>Wait...Alamut?</p><p>"Isn't Alamut where-"</p><p>"Yes, I see you know your history. Alamut was where the Assassins ruled during the Crusades."</p><p>The Order of Assassins, or the Hashashin. An order of Nizari Isma'ili Muslims formed in the late 11th century to combat the Seljuks and later the Christian Crusaders. They were small in number, but they had power across the entire Middle East. They could get anywhere and kill anyone. They were so famous (or infamous, depending on who you ask), that the English word 'assassin' was said to have come from them. In short, they were badasses.</p><p>"It is my belief" Zelretch continued "that this sword was used by one of the assassins of the Order. The fact that it hasn't rusted away completely after all these years is rather astounding."</p><p>"Yeah, but a sword, especially that size? For assassins, isn't that a little too...conspicuous?"</p><p>"Indeed, and that's what makes it even more interesting, no?"</p><p>I shrugged in response, but the question still lingered. How could an assassin, who moved stealthily, carry a sword that big?</p><p>I heard rustling, and I saw that the old man was looking at an old-fashioned pocket watch, connected to his pocket by a thin, golden chain. He turned his gaze to me and asked:</p><p>"Young Ogawa, you must be hungry. Would you like to join me for tea in my office?"</p><p>"Tea in your office? Are you sure?"</p><p>"It's the least I can do for my number one visitor."</p><p>To be honest, spending some time with this man who created my favorite place in the world sounded very appealing. Besides, I did feel a tad hungry, even after that ice cream. I nodded and he tapped his cane on the floor.</p><p>"Splendid! Follow me then." He turned around and started walking through the hall, with me trailing beside him.</p><p>We had walked up a flight of stairs and soon stood before a wooden set of doors. Zelretch pulled a silver key from his pocket and unlocked them, allowing me to look inside. It was what you would expect; two plush chairs and a small stool in front of an old antique desk with a swivel chair and window behind, green rugs and shelves of old books. A small cupboard was located on the side, like where the tea was held. A grandfather clock and a bigger cupboard were right next to one of the bookshelves, but the latter was closed. The two of us came in and Zelretch gestured to one of the chairs and I sat down. I nodded in compliment; it was very soft.</p><p>A few minutes later, we were both sitting and sipping this excellent tea; me on the plush chair, him behind his desk. I complimented him on the tea, and he thanked me in kind. A box of cookies was sitting on the stool and I helped myself to one. After we had finished our cups, Zelretch spoke to me again.</p><p>"So, young Ogawa, I once again have to thank you for coming here. As I told you before, just one person enjoying this is enough to bring me joy."</p><p>"It's no problem; I love this place. But if I might ask, how did you find all of this?"</p><p>"Well, to put it simply, I am an archaeologist and a historian. The world's history fascinates me as it does you, and I have traveled all over the world to glimpse these histories myself. I scour black markets and auctions for artifacts like these and bring them to my house, as a way of preserving them. A few years ago, I decided that my love for history should be shared with the world. So I decided to open up my collection here in Tokyo, one of the largest cities on Earth, in hopes that more people could share our appreciation. Unfortunately, my job requires me to travel often, so I cannot be here most of the time, and it turns out that people simply lack the interest in such matters."</p><p>I nodded. Zelretch smiled before he looked down at a newspaper that was on the desk and picked it up to read.</p><p>"Hmm. Another villain stopped by All-Might. 'The criminal was rampaging throughout the city when the Symbol of Peace stopped him...' Same old, same old I suppose." I hummed in response.</p><p>Zelretch looked at the paper a little more and his smile became...sadder? It's hard to describe, but his eyes seemed to dim, and his expression became...pitying or mirthful. He then raised his head and looked at me.</p><p>"Tell me, young Ogawa. What do you think of heroes?"</p><p>I blinked at his question. "What do you mean?"</p><p>"I mean what I say; a simple question, no?"</p><p>Huh...well, I gave my answer to Makoto-sensei earlier, so it came out easier than last time, so I tilted my head down and looked into my empty cup.</p><p>"I like heroes. They protect those that can't protect themselves. They inspire others to follow in their footsteps. But..."</p><p>I made eye contact with Zelretch, who just gestured for me to go on.</p><p>"...I feel like today's heroes are conforming to society's standards. They're limiting themselves by constantly having to follow the law, and that costs them more often than not. Also, most of the heroes today are in it for the fame or money. I get the last part; we all need to have food on our plates and a roof over our heads, but fame? That's not heroism, that's attention-seeking."</p><p>Zelretch said nothing and simply rubbed his chin in thought. He hummed a bit before asking me another question:</p><p>"So, you believe that heroes should have more freedom in comparison to now? And from what I'm hearing, you also want heroes to kill villains."</p><p>My eyes widened in surprise and a bit worry. How did he know?</p><p>"Call it intuition of old age. Don't worry, I'm not judging you. It's just that I knew - or know I think - a boy and asked him the same question. He answered me that he believes a hero is someone who saves everyone."</p><p>"Someone who saves everyone? That's -"</p><p>"Impossible? I told him that, but he said he would find a way and never give up his ideal. He would become a Hero of Justice and save everyone. Did he do it? Maybe, maybe not, but that was his ideal."</p><p>Saving everyone...that was stupid, suicidal even. I just can't put it another way.</p><p>"All Might also believe in something similar, to save people with a smile. Your idea of a hero, however, is more like that of a punisher or executioner. An interesting view, one that encompasses both sides of the spectrum."</p><p>My mouth slightly opened in disbelief. No-one had told me that my idea of heroes was 'interesting'. They would usually say that only villains kill, or that all heroes were good since they were heroes. Stupid yes, but I didn't want to waste my time arguing with them.</p><p>Zelretch reached for the teapot and poured himself another cup before gesturing to me as I approached the desk and he filled my cup, he spoke again.</p><p>"Did you know that the Assassins were considered heroes to some?" I raised an eyebrow.</p><p>"Really?"</p><p>"Yes, although to as many as they would have liked. They were simply a group of people who had to resort to harsh measures to protect their own, but they didn't stop there and brought (relative) stability to their whole region. Their leader was an enlightened man who ultimately sought peace, and he achieved it in the most efficient way possible: by weeding out the corrupt, greedy and tyrannical who sought to destroy them. Unfortunately, the other nations didn't share the same views and vilified the name of the order, spreading false rumors like how they were called Hashashin because they consumed hashish to enter a trance, or were extreme radicals like the Muslim terrorists from before this New Age of Heroes. Not that ANY side was guiltless, mind you - the Assassins did some pretty monstrous killing in their time - but to the people they protected, they were heroes."</p><p>Wow. I didn't know that. Definitely a new perspective. "But it didn't matter in the end; they lost and their name was forever tarnished."</p><p>The old man sighed. "True"</p><p>He stirred his tea and suddenly adopted an inquisitive expression.</p><p>"Tell me, young man, do you want to become a hero?"</p><p>Looking back, I should've expected this, but I nearly spat out my tea when I heard those words.</p><p>"W-what?"</p><p>Zelretch tilted his head in mock confusion. "What do you mean 'what'? It's just another simple question."</p><p>I coughed a little to clear my throat before considering the question. "Why do you want to know?"</p><p>"An old man's curiosity, especially with your view on heroes."</p><p>I scrunched my forehead in thought for a few moments before answering the question, despite the answer being clear to me from the beginning.</p><p>"No...no I wouldn't want to."</p><p>"Why not? Surely you could advocate changing the system if you show them the facts and pros or cons. Or is it because of your Quirk?"</p><p>Ok, I was convinced that Zelretch had some sort of mind-reading Quirk because this was getting ridiculous. I had a super-hearing Quirk that I needed either to manually activate, or it would trigger if I'm being threatened. Didn't work when I heard him approach though. Still, not a good Quirk for Heroics.</p><p>"Yes, it is partially because of my Quirk - I'm not suicidal - but it's really because...they won't listen." I rubbed my hands together as I continued, my tone becoming frustrated.</p><p>"People hate change, especially when it comes to those who are stronger than them. It took years before Quirks were accepted around the world and even today people discriminate. To allow such powerful people the ability to kill? Hah! They would sooner ban the profession altogether."</p><p>Zelretch hummed in response, rubbing his bearded chin a little. "But let's say you didn't have those limitations; your Quirk and the system. Would you still want to be a hero?"</p><p>I wet my lips as I kept rubbing my hands. Would I?</p><p>I still remember when I first saw heroes on TV. The way they took down the villain, the smiles people had after being saved, the relief I felt when they emerged triumphantly...</p><p>"...yeah."</p><p>I looked up to see that Zelretch's smile grew and for a brief second I saw something glint in his red eye. He tilted his head a bit then raised his eyebrows.</p><p>"Oh, would you look at the time! You ought to be getting home now, I believe."</p><p>I looked at the clock. Yeah, it was getting late. I lifted myself and my bag from the chair and slightly bowed to the grey-haired man.</p><p>"Thanks for the tea."</p><p>"You're welcome. I won't be around as often as I would like, but if I see you again, I'll invite you for another drink. Oh and before you go..."</p><p>He went to the large cupboard and opened one of the drawers. He approached me holding a black box of sorts.</p><p>"Consider this a gift from me to you for coming here so often."</p><p>I looked through the glass lid and gasped softly. It was a white skull mask, as big as my face, with a blue X above the eyes. Under the mask was a dagger, looking like a smaller version of the sword from earlier, only with no nails and the sash wrapped around the handle only.</p><p>"This was one of the last findings in Alamut" Zelretch explained as I took the box gently. "I strongly believe that the Assassins wore similar masks when they were active. No-one was interested in displaying it or buying it, so I kept it as a personal souvenir. I thought that you might appreciate it more than I."</p><p>I was slightly reeling in shock from the gift, still entranced by the mask. I hardly had the words.</p><p>"Th-thank you. I'll treasure this, I promise."</p><p>Zelretch's smile widened and he clasped on the shoulder. "I know you will. Now, go on, shoo, you don't want to be late."</p><p>I nodded quickly, gathering my things before heading out the door and out of the Collection. If I had stayed a little longer, I would have heard something that would partially explain all the shit that was going to happen to me.</p><p>"Step one complete. Time to let the tiles fall..."</p><hr/><p>I got on the first train home, but it was getting dark outside when I arrived. Seems that winter didn't get the message properly this year. My home is simple; an apartment on the ground floor of a complex. Spacious enough for me and my mom, yet cheap.</p><p>I walked briskly to the apartment, still clutching the case in my arm before unlocking the door. The sight of the familiar couch, coffee table, and TV greeted me, but the flat was strangely silent. I walked to the kitchen to see a note. <em>'</em></p><p>
  <em>Hi Ritsu. I was called up for an emergency review at work so I'll be coming home late. There's food in the fridge and make sure to do your homework:)</em>
</p><p>
  <em>~Love, Mom</em>
</p><p>Oh, well that explained it. My mom, Asuka Ogawa, worked in a law firm. My dad died shortly after I was born, so it's been just us for as long as I can remember. I'm really grateful to her for everything; trying to support a son as a single mother must be hard on her.</p><p>Luckily, I had little homework today so I started working on dinner; namely heating the fried beef Mom left me. As I waited for the food to be ready, I decided to take a better look at the gift Zelretch gave me. I opened the glass lid and started to feel the mask. It felt very smooth and fine, as though it was carved recently rather than a thousand or so years ago. The mask had no jaw piece, I'm guessing to allow easier communication. All in all, a very fine piece of workmanship, if it wasn't for two things:</p><p>One, there were no signs of any band or something that held the mask in place, but maybe the passage of time wore them out.</p><p>Two, the more I looked at the mask, the stronger an odd tingling felt at the back of my spine...almost like back in the museum. But this felt duller...weaker.</p><p>Shaking my head to clear that feeling, I put the mask back and moved on to the dagger. Like the mask, it was finely-made and very well kept - still sharp even! - but other than that, there was no sign of anything unique about it. Maybe that was the whole idea, something so simple yet effective.</p><p>A *ding* went off and I knew my dinner was ready. I put away my thoughts on my gift and happily devoured my beef. The hours drifted by after that; I did my homework, played on my computer and soon I felt sleepy, so I decided to go to bed. I put my gift next to my futon as I took a shower and put on pajamas. As I lay down and went to sleep, I looked at the black case and a piece of my conversation with Zelretch.</p><p>
  <em>"If you didn't have those limitations...would you still want to be a hero?"</em>
</p><p>Heh...a hero...</p><p>...if only...</p><hr/><p>
  <em>It's cold. It's hot. Why is it changing why is it <strong>twisting?</strong></em>
</p><p>
  <em>It smells like rot like corruption like filth like <strong>death.</strong></em>
</p><p>
  <em>I'm walking through sand, the scorching winds stinging my face. It's hard to see, but there is a shape up there on the mountain.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A ring in the sky.</em>
</p><p><em>A swirling</em>「 」 <em>in the center.</em></p><p>
  <em>The sand flies and clouds the sky. No! What is there? I must see! It swirls and swirls and...a skull?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>How? What?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Why is this happening? Something's dragging me, I can't go up, let go let go let go!</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Pitiful.</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Everything is silent. What?</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>BONG...</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>Thou cannot brave the truth yet...the truth of the One...</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>What truth? Who is this? Where's that bell coming from?</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>BONG...</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>Hmph...but thou art young...a young fida'i...like the rest when they began...</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I'm scared I'm confused what is this?</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>BONG...</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>The evening bell begins its toll on the world...but who shalt hear its ringing?</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>...who are you?</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>...I am He Who Walks in the Valley of Death...I am the First...all others are mockeries...</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>BONG!</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>Prepare thyself, contractor...for the world shall hear our name once more...</strong>
  </em>
</p><hr/>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I do not own BNHA or Type-Moon...blah, blah, blah, you know the drill.</p><p>I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and constructive criticism is welcome!</p><p>IMPORTANT AN AT THE BOTTOM! DO NOT SKIP IT!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Now, if you've all been listening to these past lessons, when the first Quirk-related laws came to be, the main concern of the governments around the world was to maintain order and stability by ensuring that any Quirk users with hostile intentions would not wreak havoc. Many tactics were tried, from simple traps to high-tech containment vaults, each outfitted for the criminal's unique quirk, but as the profession of the Pro-Hero rose from the chaos, the responsibility of the capturing was moved to the heroes themselves, rather than blahblahblahblah…"</p><p>Uugghh…what the history teacher's saying right now is probably important, but I really can't bring myself to care. If it wasn't for my breakfast, I would've fallen asleep by now. I try to write down whatever he's saying, but I'm sure it'll come out as a scrabbled mess when I look at it after school. Or when I get some food in my stomach.</p><p>It depends on when I drift off to sleep.</p><p>Yeah, as my classmates have guessed, I didn't sleep too well last night. I looked in a mirror before class, and the bags under my eyes combined with my pale skin could've made look like a zombie. Which is only one step lower than what I usually am here, but I digress.</p><p>I silently groan as I drag my arms across my desk. How did I turn out like this? I slept for a good number of hours, I didn't stay up too late and I know for a fact that there was nothing under my futon…</p><p>…oh right. That dream.</p><p>I've had some pretty weird dreams in the past, but none of them were even <em>remotely </em>close to what I saw last night. Not only that, but I could still feel grains of sand whipping around me, the pit of darkness clawing at me…and that bell. Something was awfully wrong about that sound. It's like my soul was trying to leave my body every time it rang (or tolled?)</p><p>…was there something in my food last night? The beef <em>did</em> look a little weird-</p><p>"Ogawa-kun? Ogawa-kun?"</p><p>I quickly raise my head to see the teacher – a short, thin man – looking at me with irritation, which quickly morphed into concern, attracting the attention of the class. I can already hear the rumor mill churning out by lunchtime.</p><p>"Ogawa-kun, are you all right? You seem awfully pale."</p><p>More than usual, you mean? Is it really that bad?</p><p>"I'm a little dizzy, thanks. Trouble sleeping."</p><p>The teacher raised his eyebrow in disbelief, as 'trouble sleeping' didn't seem to match how I looked now to him. "Well, I think you should go see the nurse after class. I'm glad you are trying to pay attention, but your health is a priority."</p><p>Wow, you think I don't know that? I didn't know it would get this bad! Outwardly, I nod. "I will, thank you sensei."</p><p>The teacher nodded with satisfaction and returned to his lecture, drawing the eyes of the class back to him. Huh, no-one's whispering anything. For high-schoolers, that's weird.</p><p>"As I was saying, after the first 'control protocols' for Quirked were formed and the Pro-Heroes along with them, laws regarding the usage of Quirks for Pros were quickly established. One of the more famous laws was called the 'Quirk Force Management Law', which heavily restricted the use of Quirks for combat purposes and often produced negative repercussions to any Pro who severely injured or killed using a Quirk. Later on, this law was loosened, as the sheer variety and danger of some villain Quirks required force greater than usually expected, but the 'no-killing' clause is still binding even today, as to allow due process and alleviate any tensions between -"</p><p>
  <em>RING! RING! RING!</em>
</p><p>Not even trying to listen anymore, I grabbed my things and bolted out the door. In seconds I reached the nearest bathroom and dumped my bag on the ground before looking in the mirror. Yeah, it still looked bad. I wash my face and a bit of my hair to try and recover myself. Damn it, what on earth was that dream!?</p><p>I take a few deep breaths and manage to calm myself down. Breathe in, breathe out, in, out.</p><p>I feel my emotions settle and the fog lifting from my head; good. If I kept going like this, I wouldn't be surprised if I snapped at someone by the end of the day.</p><p>I dry off my hands and lean down to pick up my bag when I notice something peeking out of it that didn't look like a book. Curious, I open my bag further and…wait, what!?</p><p>What the hell is that mask doing here!?</p><p>I can feel my right eye twitch as I hold the mask in my hands, staring at the blue 'x' on its forehead in disbelief? How did it get here!? Did I grab it by accident when I left home? If so, just how tired was I!?</p><p>I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose with one hand. Seriously, this day is getting shittier by the hour. I don't need the teachers seeing this, much less my classmates; Kami-sama knows what would happen if they did, and I <em>really</em> don't want them to sully this precious gift with their dirty, ignorant hands. Hey, not my fault that they're like most of the world, so narrow-minded.</p><p>I gently rub the mask as I regain my bearings. Thankfully, it doesn't like the mask's been broken or damaged in any way. I glimpse my bag on the floor and a thought popped in my head. If the mask is here, does that mean…?</p><p>I reach down and feel inside the bag, only to stop and silently groan when cold steel meets my fingers. Of course the knife would be there!</p><p>I take a few more deep breaths. Okay, okay, stay calm, just leave it at the bottom of the bag and hope the teachers don't get nosy. Act like your usual miserable self until school ends and it will be all over. Sorry my dear World Collection, but my headache is more important.</p><p>I place the mask back in the bag and close it tightly before powerwalking back to class. Luckily, there was still a minute or two before the bell rang again, so I had just enough time to sit down and take out my notebook and pencil without upsetting the teacher. I entered the classroom and did just that when I noticed some of the other students glancing at me from the corner of their eyes. Normally I don't give a damn on what people say about me (or any other asinine rumor that high-school students love to spread), but I did feel a tiny bit curious, so…</p><p>"<em>Look at him. He looks like a ghost." </em>You look like rat shit, thank you.</p><p>"<em>What do you think happened?" </em>How should I know?</p><p>"<em>Dunno. Maybe stayed out in a graveyard too long? OW!" </em>Seriously, do I REALLY look like a ghost!? My skin is not that pale! Thanks.</p><p>"<em>I feel for him, I looked like that one time. Late-night shooting game marathons do not help."</em> Wise words, my man. Neither does playing the entire Skyrim DLC campaign in one night.</p><p>"<em>Ew. Creepy."</em></p><p>Ouch. Well, my chances of getting a girlfriend just went down, not that they were very high in the first place. Hey, even a man of taste like myself isn't immune to basic desires. I'm no pervert, but I wouldn't mind someone.</p><p>Well, that's the ups and downs of super-hearing. You hear stuff you want to hear, and you hear stuff that you don't.</p><p>The day went by with less of a hassle than I thought it would, to my relief. I must've washed pretty well, because I managed to not fall asleep during any of the classes and the teachers paid me no mind. Lunch helped even more, especially since sweet-and-sour chicken was on the menu, one of the only foods the cafeteria doesn't muck up. Apart from the history teacher, the only one who seemed to notice something was Makoto-sensei. She was watching us copy down from the board and I saw her shoot me a worried glance. Whether it was because of yesterday's events or what she heard in the teacher's lounge I don't know, but she didn't confront me about it after class, so…yeah.</p><p>As the last bell finally rang, I calmly walked out of the school while avoiding the human river that gushed out of the doors. While I did feel a little better, I was still going to head straight home. I needed to get some proper rest, and nothing was going to stop me!</p><p>Looking back, I knew I should've never said anything.</p><p>I had just exited the train station and was walking down the street to my house when I passed by an alleyway. A few seconds later, the soft sound of footsteps reached my ears, and they seemed to be rising in frequency. This was not good. I slightly turned my head and looked out of the corner of my eye; walking behind me was a hooded man wearing a dirty coat and a surgical mask. His eyes seemed dead, yet I knew they were utterly focused on me.</p><p>My neighborhood was far from being a slum and barely had a crime rate, but it seems my luck was bad enough that I'm actually being targeted by the lone (and utterly random) criminal around here. I tried to stay calm and speed up a little, but my hands started to feel clammy and a few drops of cold sweat slid down my neck. I had to keep my focus on walking as to not collapse, but I knew if I didn't do something, I would-</p><p>"<em><strong>Turn left."</strong></em></p><p>It was only by sheer willpower that I didn't stop. Great, now I'm hearing voices?</p><p>"<em><strong>If thou wish to live, turn left."</strong></em></p><p>I looked up ahead and saw the sidewalk diverging into another alleyway on my left. A possible getaway, but I didn't have time to ponder as the sound of footsteps grew louder. I took a deep breath and bolted for the alley. I must've startled the punk because he paused for a second before the sound of running reached my ears. I went in the alley and stepped in the shadows, hoping he might not see me.</p><p>"<em><strong>Whatever he does, do not move."</strong></em></p><p>I pressed myself onto the wall as the thug entered the alley, his head veering left and right searching for me. I resisted the urge to wet my lips or clear my throat as he slowly approached me. He slowly stepped to where I was, and I had to hold my breath in as to not draw any attention…oh, no.</p><p>He's right in front of me!</p><p>Right. In. Front. Of. Me!</p><p>I was a hair's breadth close to shutting my eyes, I did not want to see what he did to…wait a second.</p><p>He's just…staring. Not even looking at me. Like I'm not even here.</p><p>How? I'm pretty sure that my heart is beating so loud it's like a rock concert.</p><p>The thug seemed to growl before slowly advancing down the alley, with me looking at him as he slowly walked, step by step.</p><p>How?</p><p>How could he not see me?</p><p>"<em><strong>Clench thy fist."</strong></em></p><p>Okay, three things were seriously wrong here. First, why am I hearing voices? Second, why is said voice talking like one of those old period movies? Third…why the hell am I listening to him? (No female could sound <em>that</em> low).</p><p>"<em><strong>I am saving thy life, fool. Now clench thy fist."</strong></em></p><p>I hesitated for a second before removing my right hand from the wall and slowly closing it. Just as I was about to fully close it though, I nearly jumped in surprise by what appeared into it from thin air; the dagger.</p><p>Okay, this was going too far. Last I checked I didn't have a teleporting quirk.</p><p>"<em><strong>Raise the dagger and throw it, while the filth's back is turned."</strong></em></p><p>Throw the dagger? How!? I've never held a weapon in my life! How am I supposed to know how to throw a dagger!?</p><p>"<em><strong>Breathe, contractor. Allow the world around thee to dissolve. Let nothing but the target to distract thee."</strong></em></p><p>…I took a look to my right. I was a few good meters away from the main street. I could maybe escape, but I don't know how fast he can run, or what Quirk he has, so running isn't an option. I looked back at the criminal, who had stopped in the middle of the alley. I don't really know why, but the idea of running and letting this guy do what he wanted made me wrinkle my nose in disgust. If he was willing to target a high-schooler like me, who knows what he could do? And to whom he could it to?</p><p>No, I had to stop him.</p><p>I took a deep, quiet breath and focused on the thug's back. The alley's sides, the pavement and the sky seemed to blur. Only the thug seemed visible, his outline seemingly shimmering. I slowly raised the dagger, robotically turning it in my hand as though I knew how to do it all my life. It was like my body was on autopilot; I knew what I was doing, but I didn't really know how I was doing it.</p><p>I ever-so-slightly inhaled, flicked my wrist…and watched as the dagger flew from my hand like a bullet, right to where his heart was. The blade pierced his back with such force that only the hilt was seen sticking out. The thug twitched…and fell lifeless on the floor.</p><p>My breath hitched in my throat as I saw trickles of liquid that I knew was blood leak from his back. I killed someone. I, who had never so much as gotten in a fight, had killed someone. Strangely enough, I only felt a little dizzy, and not the disgust or intense nausea I've heard of from books or movies. No shame or horror.</p><p>No disgust.</p><p>No questioning my morality.</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>Nothing.</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>In fact, in some dark corner of my mind, I was…dare I say it…<strong>happy</strong> at seeing him dead.</p><p>Why didn't that terrify me?</p><p>"<em><strong>If thou wish to remain hidden, we should make haste and leave. Retrieve the knife first."</strong></em></p><p>Ah, it's that voice again. Before I could even think of a response, my hand went into autopilot again. I flicked my wrist upwards and the dagger flew into my hand from the thug's back. I gaped in total confusion for a moment before looking at the body again, and promptly dashing out of the alleyway. I panted frantically as I ran all the way to my apartment, not pausing even once. There were few people outside, so I didn't have to avoid hitting anyone. I soon reached my apartment and quickly unlocked the door. Out of breath, I peeked inside and saw that no-one was there, so Mom must still be at work. I locked the door behind me with shaking hands before running to my room, where I finally dropped my bag and fell to the floor in a smorgasbord of negative emotions.</p><p>Right, <em>now</em> I feel like hurling. I nearly punch the floor in frustration and confusion at what happened. My legs – having felt like red-hot iron rods all the way here – seemed to feel like melted ice cream now, utterly useless. I wipe my forehead with my still-shaking hand then move it over my heart. It was calmer now, but its drumming seemed to make the room vibrate with every throb. I tried to take deep breaths like before, and while it did help, it felt like my throat was being scratched from the inside each time.</p><p>I needed a shower, and maybe a nap, homework be damned. In the middle of the day. Yeah, it's that serious.</p><p>"<em><strong>Put on the mask, contractor."</strong></em></p><p>…oh right, for a moment I forgot about that. "Okay, just who are you!? Where the hell are you!?"</p><p>A low grumbling filled my head, almost like a vicious snarl.</p><p>"<em><strong>If thou desire answers, then put on the mask."</strong></em></p><p>I hold back a groan. Seriously, can't I have just a moment's peace!? Why the hell am I listening to a voice in my head!?</p><p>"<em><strong>I saved thy life, contractor. Or dost thou believe that the death of the filth was mere luck?"</strong></em></p><p>I opened my mouth to retort, but words failed to come out as I looked back on what happened. He had a point; I killed (a small shudder went up my spine) a man by throwing a knife, when I didn't even have the skill how to use one regularly, also, I seemed to become invisible despite the thug standing right next to me.</p><p>The voice spoke again, this time its tone seemingly softer.</p><p>"<em><strong>I…understand how this might be confusing to thee, but I swear by Allah that I shall give you the answers thou seek if you put on the mask."</strong></em></p><p>I sat on the floor, tapping my fingers before sighing. I admit this was…insane, to put it lightly, but a part of me was curious as to what the voice had to say. I reached into my bag and pulled out the mask, staring at its visage for a moment. It felt…warmer for some reason. I swallowed, placed the mask on my face…</p><p>…and the world became darkness.</p><hr/><p>The first thing I felt was sand.</p><p>As I lay on the ground, I felt my fingers dig through soft grains of sand, even as I tried to open my eyes. I groaned as my body twitched, trying to orient itself. I managed to raise my head and shake it…only to stumble back in fright at what I saw.</p><p>Two enormous pitch-black cliffs, reaching the sky with no end in sight, flanked my vision. The sky was a dull gray, with only the feeblest of sunlight seemingly penetrating the clouds. In front of me was a network of stone bridges, archways and caverns, all illuminated by a ghostly blue light in the distance. Strange voices whispered in the air, in foreign tongues and so faintly they could be mistaken for wind.</p><p>I reached up to rub my eyes, only to pause when my fingers touched something hard which was definitely not skin. I slowly felt my face, my eyes widening as I recognized the feel:</p><p>It was the mask!</p><p>I frantically grabbed its sides and tried to pull it off, but to my horror it was stuck to my face! I looked around desperately, trying to find something to pry it off when a familiar deep voice froze me in my tracks.</p><p>"<strong>I would not advise thee to do that. It is what's keeping thou alive in this place."</strong></p><p>I turned around so quickly that I might've gotten whiplash only to freeze again. In front of me was a tall figure, wearing a black cloak and hood that covered most of his body. His armored hands clutched the pommel of a very huge and familiar sword. His face was covered with an even more familiar skull mask, with two horns protruding from the hood and fiery blue eyes glowing from the eyeholes. But the most terrifying thing about him was the aura he seemed to exude. It made me feel utterly powerless, like I was a leaf that was about to fall from a tree at any moment.</p><p>The silence stretched out between us, even the faint whispering ceased. The fact that I was not running and screaming like a little girl was a miracle in of itself. I waited for him to say something, but he just kept staring at me with that infernal blue stare. I opened and closed my mouth to try and speak, but I couldn't form any good question in my head. After what seemed like a minute later, I deiced to just start with something simple:</p><p>"Where am I?"</p><p>The cloaked figure hummed before replying. <strong>"Thou art in the place that exists everywhere and nowhere. It lingers on the edges of the world, in every dark corner, every cavern and valley, yet no living creature can ever enter…none besides you that is, and even then, thou art not really here."</strong></p><p>He raised an arm from the sword and gestured behind me with his spiked gauntlet. <strong>"This is a place that is separate from the World. It has existed long before it, and it will exist long after it shall wither into dust. This is a place all men fear, but only a few dare to tread its paths. To you and to me however, it is a place of refuge, a place of meditation, a place of learning. It goes by names and many forms, but to us, it is the Mountain Abyss, the Valley in the Shadow of Death."</strong></p><p>"…' as I walk through the valley in the shadow of death, I fear no evil…'" I mutter, the famous quote instantly popping into my mind. "Wait, are you saying that…this is <em>that </em>valley? It's an actual place!?"</p><p>"<strong>Where dost thou think that phrase comes from? The one who coined it saw a glimpse of this place, and the memory haunted him to his grave."</strong></p><p>Huh…if I remember correctly, the phrase comes from the Christian Bible. Or was it the Jewish one? Anyway, doesn't matter. So now I know what this place is but…</p><p>"How did I get here?"</p><p>"<strong>The mask thou wear is a remnant of my time. The memories it carries have remained strong throughout the centuries, and a wisp of this valley's power has seeped into it during its creation. It latched on to you and sent your soul, your </strong><em><strong>jahn </strong></em><strong>here, so that we may communicate."</strong></p><p>"Wait…my <em>soul?"</em></p><p>"<strong>Indeed. Thy body is still in thy abode, appearing as if asleep."</strong></p><p>Huh…like astral projection. I rub my chin in thought, mulling over the cloaked man's words. If what I assume is correct, he managed to talk to me because I had the mask in my possession. Now that I was wearing it, we could communicate face-to-face in this-</p><p>Wait a minute.</p><p>"You…you said that this mask was a remnant of your time?" The skull-faced man nodded.</p><p>"Then that means…" the memories of yesterday hit me like the Shinkansen. If he said that the mask was from his time, then that meant…</p><p>"<em>This was one of the last findings in Alamut" Zelretch explained as I took the box gently. "I strongly believe that the Assassins wore similar masks when they were active."</em></p><p>Not just that…now that I think about it, his voice sounded familiar as well.</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>Thou cannot brave the truth yet…the truth of the one…</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>The voice…he was in my dream!</p><p>Yeah, if I wasn't going to crap my pants before, I sure felt like it now.</p><p>"Are…are you one of the Assassins?"</p><p>The man's eyes flashed red for a moment. <strong>"It appears that our legacy has not been forgotten. Yes, contractor, I am one of the Order of Assassins."</strong></p><p>I nodded dumbly, trying very hard to scream. "But…but…how is that possible!? Your Order died out centuries ago! How can you still be alive!?"</p><p>"<strong>Thou art indeed correct, young contractor. My Order did finally perish at the hands of the Mongol invaders all those centuries ago. As to how I am here…"</strong> he slightly looked down, the shadows of his hood obscuring his mask even further.</p><p>"…<strong>I do not ever believe I ever stated that I am alive."</strong></p><p>"…you're a ghost?"</p><p>"<strong>In a manner, though 'wraith' would be more appropriate."</strong></p><p>"Huh…" I rubbed my face (or rather, mask) and let out short puffs of air. Okay, okay, calm yourself Ritsu. Don't panic, it's no big deal. You're just standing in front of <em>a ghost of one of the Assassins!</em> There's no reason to panic, just…yeah, not working. I meet the wraith's stare and try to think of something to cut the tension. I mean, this could be a rare opportunity providing I don't freak out-Woah, calm down!</p><p>"…um, might I ask you your name?" The wraith lifted his head and tilted it slightly to the side.</p><p>"<strong>I do believe I should ask for yours first, seeing how I saved your life."</strong></p><p>He's avoiding the question…maybe it's an Assassin thing? "My name is Ritsu Ogawa. If…if you are what you say you are, then I am honored to meet you."</p><p>The man just waved me off. <strong>"Please, there is little honor in meeting a squirming wraith such as myself, but I thank thee nonetheless. Ritsu Ogawa, you say? Hmm…the world truly has changed in my time away, you being here is a prime example."</strong></p><p>"Well, a few new things pop up after more than eight hundred years." The wraith let out a brief chuckle and the tension slowly left my body. Imposing as he may be, he seems rather pleasant to talk to.</p><p>"Say, when you meant you saved my life, how did you do that? How did I throw that knife so well?"</p><p>"<strong>Over the years of our existence, my followers and I have acquired a great many skills. Espionage, arms mastery, sabotage, concealment, to name a few. All I did was grant thee the knowledge of two skills that any Assassin knows."</strong></p><p>My eyes flared open in surprise. "You can do that?"</p><p>"<strong>I already can speak to thee in thy head, young Ogawa. A little basic knowledge is child's play."</strong></p><p>…now that I think about it, it does make sense. An assassin would need to know how to hide (duh), and knives were weapons assassins from every period in history knew how to use. But still…</p><p>"Even so, how did that thug not see me? Where I was, just <em>hiding </em>would still let him see me, but he passed me by like I wasn't even there."</p><p>The cloaked Assassin chuckled again. <strong>"You will find that there are many things in this World and beyond it which defy what you call common sense. Did your people not think superpowers an impossibility before?"</strong></p><p>"Well, I guess-hey, how do you know that!?"</p><p>"<strong>I see glimpses of the world from this valley. I may not know all the details, but something of this magnitude is certainly hard to miss. I must say that not even the </strong><em><strong>magoi</strong></em><strong> of my time could ever predict such a phenomenon occurring."</strong></p><p>My lips twitch in amusement. Yeah, if anyone from the Crusades would what society had become, they would run for the hills and never show themselves. Or proclaim everyone else demons and heretics and try to burn them.</p><p>…not that different from the modern man actually, just more outspoken. How sad.</p><p>"…I heard you before. In my dream last night. What did you mean by what you said?"</p><p>The Assassin tapped the pommel of his sword with an armored finger, staying silent for a moment before speaking in a more…authoritative tone.</p><p>"<strong>There is nothing to be explained, contractor. I was simply responding to thy desire."</strong></p><p>"My desire?" I ask. "What desire? And why do you keep calling me 'contractor'?"</p><p>"<strong>Do not try to deny it, even if the words have slipped from thy memory"</strong> snapped the wraith. <strong>"It is thy desire that triggered our bond. I have accepted it, and thus accept thy contract. Hence, thou art my contractor."</strong></p><p>Okay, this was getting tiring. "Then if you would be so kind," I said, aggravated. "What did I say was my desire?"</p><p>The cloaked wraith's eyes narrowed at me for a moment, and then he spoke:</p><p>"<strong>Our minds are linked, contractor, and I have seen your life and thoughts. You have seen that there is evil in the world, an evil that crawls in the shadows and preys on the unfortunate and helpless. There are forces of good in the world, reminiscent of time older than I, but they are too constrained, too blind to see the truth. Evil cannot be contained, for sooner or later, it shall break free. The filth that tried to harm you is but one example of this evil. Unlike those 'heroes' however, you extinguished the rot instead of trapping it in a bottle. You made sure that the filth would never taint another soul ever again."</strong></p><p>I stood there, listening to his words intently. While I was a little miffed that he rummaged through my mind without permission, his words stroke a chord within me. I <em>was </em>happy to see that thug die. The Pro-Heroes would've tried to capture him, and would have no doubt succeeded, but who knows what that guy has done? What if he had hurt one of the heroes if they tried to capture him? He was definitely going to harm or kill me. Did he really deserve to live? As I asked myself those questions, I recalled Zelretch's words from yesterday.</p><p>"<em>Your idea of a hero is more like that of a punisher or executioner. An interesting viewpoint, one that encompasses both sides of the spectrum."</em></p><p>"<em>Let's say that you didn't have the limitations of your Quirk and the system; would you want to be a hero?"</em></p><p>"…a hero?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. "You want to help me become a hero?"</p><p>"<strong>No"</strong> he responded firmly, and I blinked in surprise. <strong>"Heroes and Villains are mere labels that humanity has given individuals who have risen above the rest, those who conform and reject society's standards. I was seen as a hero to my people, but I was a villain to the rest of the world. Heroes may defeat monsters and filth in public, but behind their curtains, they can act as vile as the beasts they face. What I am offering you, Ritsu Ogawa, is a chance to cull those who feast on the flesh of the innocent, slay those who thrive on the misery of the unfortunate and end those who tarnish the efforts of humanity to thrive. I ask thee this, young contractor…</strong></p><p>…<strong>dost thou wish to be an Assassin?"</strong></p><p>I gaped in shock at the offer he made me and looked down at the ground in thought. He was basically offering me the chance to hunt down criminals and scum and put an end to them for good. The rational part of my mind protested this, saying that I would just be risking my life for something asinine and pointless, that I was better off staying out of this whole thing. If not for me, then for Mom.</p><p>…but another part of me, one built with frustration and rage over the years, whispered in my ear. This was my chance, a chance to show those idiots who laughed at me that the only way to deal with scum was to remove them. That 'thinking like a villain' or 'having extreme thoughts' actually got results, instead of the constant idealism that people nowadays preach. Besides, I wouldn't be like All Might; I was too selfish for that. I cared too much about my own life, my own comforts, to truly be a hero. So what? I'm still human. And I would find a way to protect Mom. What was the alternative? A boring, mundane life, with only my hobby and ways of paying bills in the future? Days filled with 'buts' and 'what ifs' if I rejected this?</p><p>…well, looks like I made up my mind. If a hero or a villain isn't suited for me, then maybe an Assassin would do the trick.</p><p>Taking a deep breath, I raised my head and stared at the wraith in his fiery eyes. I knew what I had – no, what I <em>wanted</em> to do.</p><p>"I accept."</p><p>A low rumbling came from his throat, like a satisfied beast after a meal. <strong>"That is good. I knew I had chosen rightly. We shall start tomorrow, however. Thou need to rest and come to terms with thy decision."</strong></p><p>I nodded in agreement; I needed a good shower anyways. But there was still one thing I had to ask.</p><p>"You didn't tell me what's your name. If you're going to teach me, then I should know."</p><p>The wraith looked at me before his eyes flashed red. Suddenly, the blue light from the end of the valley began to flicker violently and the air thrummed with a force that made all my hairs stand up. The sky grew darker as the shadows of the cliffs seemed to wrap themselves around us. A kaleidoscopic blue aura enveloped the wraith and extended from behind his shoulders to form two large shapes that cast an impossible shade on the ground below.</p><p>They were shaped like wings. Two gigantic wings that flicker red, blue, and black.</p><p>"…<strong>dost thou truly desire to know me? To know who I am? Dost thou want to know my name?"</strong></p><p>"…I do."</p><p>"…<strong>Then this is what I am called. I am he who ruled the Sacred Lands for two hundred years. I am the one chosen by Allah and the Counter Force to save this world and to eliminate any threat to humanity. I have been reborn in this Mountain Abyss, and only Death do I bring. I am the founder of the Assassins. I am the Old Man of the Mountain like those who have succeeded me.</strong></p><p>
  <strong>I am Hassan-i Sabbah!"</strong>
</p><p>…</p><p>…</p><p>…</p><p>…well, maybe I should've given this decision more thought.</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Ritsu Ogawa (Assassin - Hassan-i Sabbah)</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong><span>Stats:</span> Too human to be measured.</strong>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <strong>Skills:</strong>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <strong>Presence Concealment D: The ability to hide from others. A poor level for any Assassin.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Throwing (Dagger) B and Throwing (Retrieval) B: The expertise for throwing projectile weapons; in this case, daggers. His daggers have the same destructive power as firearms when thrown, typically spelling certain death for human targets. He can retrieve them to his hand with but a mere gesture</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Information Erasure D: Erases all traces of the user's identity, physical or digital, after leaving a scene of assassination. It does not hide the user's identity in any other situation, and clues can be pieced together to deduce identity. If the user's identity is discovered, then the effects of the skill vanish.</strong>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <strong>Noble Phantasm:</strong>
  </span>
  <strong> ?</strong>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hi guys! I'm so happy at the number of reviews the first chapter has gotten! 30! Wow!</p><p>Now, before you move off, I want to ask for your opinion: I want there to be a pairing in this story and I would like your suggestions, but I'm asking you not to just pitch in your favorite waifu so you can see her in the story. So that's why if you suggest a pairing, I would very much like it if you could give a reason as to why she would be a good partner for our new Assassin. Once a preliminary vote has been established, I will round up the most popular ones and put it to a vote. THE DECISION COULD AFFECT THE FLOW OF THE STORY, SO CHOOSE CAREFULLY.</p><p>If you want to get a good picture of what Ritsu looks like, imagine Charles-Henri Sanson's face from F/GO with Hikigaya Hachiman's uniform.</p><p>Go check out my other stories and the challenges on my bio! They're really good! Pleeeeaaaaasssseee?</p><p>Read and Review!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Hi guys! Finally, a new chapter of this thing! Well, hope I haven't kept you waiting for too long, so let's get started!</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>As usual, I own nothing but my OCs.</strong>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <strong>AN AT THE BOTTOM! READ IT!</strong>
  </span>
</p><hr/><p>Okay…let me take a look back for a moment because if I don't, I'm pretty sure that I would declare myself insane and lock myself up for the foreseeable future.</p><p>After having a boring-yet-shitty day at school thanks to some nightmare that would have made me think I had taken drugs the previous night if I didn't know better, I was stalked by some thug and was nearly killed or worse, only to be saved by a mysterious voice that came from a mask I had received as a gift. Then I somehow managed to kill the thug with a throwing knife despite having never used a weapon before. Oh, and the mysterious voice is actually the spirit of the centuries-deceased founder of the Assassin Order.</p><p>Yeah, not crazy at all.</p><p>Now, one would think "there's no way anything could get worse after that", but apparently daring the universe – or was it God? Or Allah, as Hassan says? – was like screaming for trouble, because no sooner than a few minutes after my conversation with Hassan…</p><p>"I told you, I'm fine!"</p><p>"And I'm telling you, you're not! Now, drink up before you collapse!"</p><p>I try and complain again but the "glare that could stop a raging oni in its tracks" made me swallow it and drink up the tea that was handed to me. I wince at the bitter taste, but my headache did clear up.</p><p>"So, are you going to tell me exactly what happened?"</p><p>I raised my head and met the stern gaze of my mother, Asuka Ogawa, a rather tall woman with waist-length black hair (tied into a ponytail) and blue eyes the same as my own, now narrowed at me. She was wearing a pressed suit and tie and was holding a cold rag.</p><p>"Well?" she asked as she crossed her arms.</p><p>I bit my lip. How do I approach this…?</p><p>"I…don't really know. I woke up feeling dizzy, and it just got worse during school. I thought that it would get better over time but…when I came home I just…" I gesture to myself. "Wham."</p><p>She raised an eyebrow. Eh, didn't really think she would buy it. She's not a lawyer for her looks.</p><p>"Where were you yesterday?"</p><p>"I was at the Collection, but I came home right after, I swear!" That much was true. She kept staring at me for a few seconds before slightly softening her gaze.</p><p>"Is that where you got that mask from?" she gestured to my bedroom and I suppressed a wince. Yeah, seeing your son unconscious and wearing a creepy skull mask must be very unsettling.</p><p>"Mm-hm. I met the owner of the museum and he gave it to me as a gift. He said that he appreciated me visiting so often."</p><p>"Strange gift for a kid like yourself."</p><p>"Hey, it's an antique!"</p><p>"What exactly you were doing with an 'antique' on your face?"</p><p>"I…I just wanted to try it out. It looked really cool."</p><p>Ugh. That statement was so 'typical teenager' that I had to resist cringing. Even my mom gave me a funny look before she sighed.</p><p>"And you're sure you didn't eat or have anything weird?"</p><p>"Mm-hm. Just some ice-cream and the dinner you made me. Although, I think the beef tasted funny when I ate it…"</p><p>She bopped me on the head with a bemused smile. "Oh, hush you. I'll have you know that I put extra care in making that beef. Maybe I should cut your allowance so you'll stop eating that much ice-cream-"</p><p>"NO!" I shoot a fierce glare at her. My beloved ice-cream has <em>nothing</em> to do with this! How dare you insinuate that!</p><p>Mother just stared back before a few giggles escaped our lips. Yeah, we had this little dynamic between us. We would throw some petty insults and threats at each other before dropping it and reconciling. I never had a real fight with my mother, a claim I'm sure 95% of the students in my school didn't hold.</p><p>"But seriously…" she placed the rag on my forehead. "You don't have a fever or anything, so how did this happen?"</p><p>"I wish I knew. Fainting isn't fun, let me tell you that."</p><p>She snorted and removed the rag from my forehead before placing it on the kitchen table. "So, other than this little episode, how was school?"</p><p>"Eh, it was fine. Nothing out of the ordinary, the teachers trying to teach, half of the students trying to learn, and the rest just drool into oblivion."</p><p>"Really? Nothing new with that teacher of yours, Makoto? I know she likes you."</p><p>I ignore her teasing tone while biting my lip. First of all, ew, I don't have a crush on my teacher. Doujins are not real life, no matter what people try to claim, even in our bizarre-enough reality. Second…I don't think that my little essay should be brought up.</p><p>"…no, and please stop that. What about you?"</p><p>"Oh, nothing new. Just a few cases that we had to do an emergency look-over, that's why I came home late last night."</p><p>"Really? Anything interesting?"</p><p>"Just some divorce settlement claim. Nothing brand-new; he cheated on her, she cheated on him…honestly, sometimes I feel like people want to drive us nuts."</p><p>"…I will refrain from commenting, Miss Lawyer."</p><p>She shot me a mock-glare and grumbled. "What a cheeky child I have…" She shook her head and then headed to the kitchen. "Well, if you really feel like you're fine, then the best thing I can tell you is to get some rest. I'll whip something up in a minute, then you go straight to sleep." She sharply turned around. "No video games, mister!"</p><p>"…yes, mom."</p><p>With a nod and a smile, she set off to cooking. I just leaned back against the sofa and sighed. That was…the words had a hard time forming in my mind. I really should have expected my mother to come home and find me. Maybe place a note on the kitchen counter saying I was asleep. Not that I was in the most stable of mindsets at the time to make such a decision, but still!</p><p>…damn. I hate this feeling.</p><p>'<em><strong>Thy matriarch is an impressive woman, contractor.'</strong></em></p><p>I nearly jump out of the couch in shock. What was – oh, right. The invisible elephant in the room. Not wanting my mom to think I'm hallucinating I somehow manage to turn the conversation inwards. Let me tell you, it feels weird; like talking in a cave but echoes bounce inside your head, not outside it.</p><p>'<em>A little warning next time!'</em></p><p>"…"</p><p>'<em>Sorry…it's just been a long day.'</em></p><p>"<em><strong>I understand. Still, consider this thy first lesson; always be aware of your surroundings."</strong></em></p><p>My first lesson, huh?</p><p>…this is going to take some time getting used to.</p><p>'<em>How exactly are we going to do this?'</em></p><p>"…" I hear Hassan's breath quietly rumble in my head.</p><p>As I said, this will take time to get used to.</p><p>"<em><strong>As I have said before, we shall wait until tomorrow to continue this. Thou art exhausted, disoriented, and in no condition to pay attention now. Let us start tomorrow, with a clean mind and clean body."</strong></em></p><p>…makes sense. I still have a nasty headache. <em>'Okay. See you tomorrow.'</em></p><p>"<em><strong>Hn." </strong></em>With that, he went silent. I looked down and scratched my leg. What do I do now? Mom's still cooking, and I can't go on the computer so –</p><p>"Ritsu! Dinner's ready!"</p><p>Huh, that was fast. I get up from the couch and walk over to the table. My mom comes over and hands me a steaming bowl of soup. Smells great.</p><p>I place the bowl on the table after mumbling a 'thank you' and start eating. The soup's nice and hot, but it calms me down nicely. It helps that it wasn't too salty.</p><p>After I finish the bowl, I place it in the dishwasher and head over to my room, but mom calls out to me before I enter.</p><p>"I'll be done with the case soon, so I'll be home earlier than usual from now. Tell me if anything like this happens again, okay?"</p><p>…</p><p>"…okay."</p><p>I take off my clothes and hit the futon like a sack of rice. As the familiar sensation of sleep overtakes me, I try to brace myself for whatever my new mentor has planned for tomorrow.</p><p>'<em>Assassin, huh?</em></p><p>
  <em>...*sigh*'</em>
</p><hr/><p>To my great relief, my sleep was peaceful devoid of dreams, so I woke up only having to wash off the morning breath. After giving myself a small rinse of water, I walk to the kitchen where my mom is frying something in a pan, wearing an apron over casual clothes.</p><p>Mm…smells like bacon. American or British breakfast today?</p><p>She briefly turns around at the sound of my footsteps and greets me. "Morning, sleepyhead! How are you feeling?"</p><p>I rub my eyes. "Just fine, thanks."</p><p>"That's good to hear. Breakfast is ready, so sit down." I do so and she puts a plate of bacon and eggs in front of me. Bless this woman.</p><p>Muttering a quick 'Itadakimasu', I munch on the meal, the morning haze slowly drifting from my mind. This is precisely why I never skip out on breakfast. At the sound of another clink, I see my mother sitting down and eating from an identical plate.</p><p>"How's the meal?"</p><p>"Not too burnt, not too raw, great work on the bacon. The eggs might need a little more frying though…"</p><p>"I think you haven't woken up properly yet. Why don't you start drinking coffee?"</p><p>"Because, mother of mine, coffee tastes disgusting and is for drudges."</p><p>"Watch it mister, or you might find out that your ice-cream is replaced with Mocha."</p><p>My head shoots up in alarm, only for me to meet my mother's smirk. I grumble and return to my meal, catching the slight snicker from her mouth. Seriously woman, never joke about that! Do you have any idea of the horror of eating cookies and cream, only for the bitter taste of coffee to spring up in your mouth!?</p><p>Why people, why? Why ruin a perfectly good flavor with coffee!?</p><p>"So, any plans for today?"</p><p>Plans? Well, I should be going to school soon –</p><p>Wait.</p><p>"…what day is it?"</p><p>She gives me a weird look. "That dizzy bout must have really messed up your head. It's Saturday."</p><p>…oh.</p><p>Wow, was I that tired to not notice a weekend?</p><p>Who am I kidding, of course I was.</p><p>I would normally laze around in my room on a weekend, but…</p><p>"…I think I'll take a walk. Maybe stretch my legs a little."</p><p>Mom tilts her head in curiosity and then shrugs. "Maybe a walk will help you. Just make sure to tell me if you're coming home for lunch or dinner."</p><p>"Sure" With that, I clear my plate and head back to my room, where I put on some jeans, a blue shirt with black zigzags and a black hoodie. The autumn air was starting to settle, so it was best to take precautions. I'm about to leave when my eyes drift to the corner of my room.</p><p>Right. The mask. Better take the dagger too.</p><p>I empty my bag of my school supplies and put the two items in, along with my phone and wallet. After saying a 'bye' to mom, I step outside and take a deep breath.</p><p>Okay, first I need to go somewhere quiet. I think of the Collection, but I remind myself it's a weekend. Where else?</p><p>…I should go out more.</p><p>With a sigh, I head down the street to the train station. At least from there, I can maybe think of where to go next. After I pass by a few houses, a very familiar sight to my right stops me.</p><p>It was the alley, and in it, the corpse of the criminal lay face-down, though with noticeably more flies.</p><p>I power-walk out of there while cupping my face to avoid the smell. Damn it, why now? Why can't I have at least a few moments of peace before this? The fact that the police haven't found the corpse niggles at the back of my head, but I ignore it.</p><p>Okay Ritsu, calm down. You've gone this far without flipping out, you can keep doing it.</p><p>Thankfully, I arrive at the station without any further issues. I pass through the automatic gates and descend to the platform where, like always, people idly lounged waiting for the next train. There was less rush since it was a weekend, but the high number matched the hour. According to the sign, the next train would arrive in five minutes, so I just sit down on an empty bench, hands in my pockets.</p><p>…huh, I'm really doing this. I am actually going through with this utterly…bizarre idea. got half a mind to scream internally at the sheer insanity of this situation. Luckily, saner heads prevail and I once more take a deep breath.</p><p>"<em><strong>Having second thoughts, contractor?"</strong></em></p><p>I flinch at the deep voice. <em>'Uh...well…I don't know…I guess I'm still trying to take it all in.'</em></p><p>The wraith lets out a deep hum. <em><strong>"I suppose that even in a time of such oddity, a meeting like ours would be disconcerting to thee. Nevertheless, we shall find out if thou have the resolve."</strong></em></p><p>Hm. Even when one's accustomed to living in a world of superheroes, life can get really weird. <em>'I would like to think so.'</em></p><p>"<em><strong>Many men say, but not many can."</strong></em> He pauses for a moment. <em><strong>"Where art thou heading now?"</strong></em></p><p>'…<em>well, if I'm really going to do this, then we need a place to train or at least a hideout. My apartment's too small, and I really don't want my mother to find out about this.'</em></p><p>"<em><strong>Dost thou know of such a place?"</strong></em></p><p>'…<em>not really, no.'</em></p><p>He goes silent. Yeah, I sounded stupid just then. I call out to the wraith, but he doesn't reply. The rumbling under my feet gets my attention, and I see that the train is arriving. I wait for the people to exit, then I enter and quickly take a seat. After the rest of the people got on, the doors closed with a buzz and the train sped off.</p><p>Several stations later, I get off. I pass through the gates and step out into the street.</p><p>What I said before was correct; I, who had rarely stepped outside the house for anything other than school, vacation, or the Collection, had not even the slightest clue of where to find such a place. Better yet, no-one would advertise anything like that. It would defeat the purpose of a hideout.</p><p>But…let it not be said that I'm not observant.</p><p>I start walking down the street and look at the buildings flanking the road. Unlike my neighborhood, they look worn and dusty. The pavement is cracked and the roads, while in okay condition, don't look like they've seen a cement paver in the past decade or so. Overall, it wasn't a place one would consider living in.</p><p>And that just what made Hosu Ward an ideal place to start looking.</p><p>"<em><strong>Hm…I see, I see. It seems that my contractor is not utterly clueless to the art of observation as I had thought."</strong></em></p><p>A small blush warms my cheeks for a moment. <em>'It's nothing. Just simply paying attention.'</em></p><p>"<em><strong>Elaborate."</strong></em></p><p>I'm sure he knew what I was talking about, but okay. <em>'You would be surprised what people would talk about when they think no-one's listening, especially if they're the gossip machines known as high-schoolers.'</em></p><p>Speaking of…</p><p>"<em>Please, I'll be there in just a second, I promise you…"</em></p><p>"<em>Did you see the latest Uwabami shampoo? I swear she makes it shinier every time…"</em></p><p>"<em>And then he wiggles his eyebrows at me. Uh! Seriously, what do people watch these days!?"</em></p><p>"<em>Hi there! How ya doin'?"</em></p><p>"<em>Did you catch the newest episode of All Might Adventures? It was amazing when he…"</em></p><p>Heh. The things people talk about…not that I do this often, but with the number of pranks I've avoided, I do it enough. Listening is naturally difficult in crowded areas, and I have to –</p><p>"<em><strong>STOP!"</strong></em></p><p>"HOOOOONK!"</p><p>My body freezes right as I was about to cross the road, and step right into the path of a truck. It drove past me and I let out a relieved sigh.</p><p>"<em><strong>As useful as thy ability is,"</strong></em> remarks Hassan. <em><strong>"As I have stated yesterday, thou should always pay attention to thy surroundings. An assassin who lets his guard down is ripe for the taking."</strong></em></p><p>Yeah…you don't need to tell me twice.</p><p>"<em><strong>Good, because I do not like telling thee the same lesson twice."</strong></em></p><p>Ouch.</p><p>I shake my head and turn off my super-hearing, making sure there are no cars before I cross the road. I keep walking down the streets, this time turning my Quirk on and off at moments. I do not want to end up in the hospital, thank you. I catch only snippets of conversation this time, but it's better than the alternatives.</p><p>Some time passes as I make my way around the Ward. The view rarely changes – still buildings, roads, and the occasional mall. I hear nothing that can help me with finding what I'm looking for. At some point, I realize that with the way I'm going at it, it's gonna take a while to find a hideout. It's not like people were going to talk about a place like that, even with my Quirk. Something like that would only be spoken indoors or in more…discreet locations.</p><p>Hassan kept quiet in the meantime. Whether he was watching me work or doing something else, I don't know. What is there to do in such a desolate place?</p><p>I shiver as I recall the memory of my experience in the…Valley. It was…harrowing, to say the least, and I'm still amazed at how I didn't freak out…completely, that is. A place where the souls of the dead travel…I couldn't think of a more fitting description.</p><p>My grim thoughts were interrupted by the rumbling of my stomach. But I already had breakfast!</p><p>...and I was still hungry, and I walked through a city block. I should remedy this.</p><p>I look around and spot a nice-looking café across the street. I cross the road and enter before finding myself a seat. The menu lists several pastries, both Japanese and Western. A waitress with a bee-like uniform and insect antennae comes up to me with a notepad.</p><p>"What would you like?"</p><p>"Just a croissant and some water, please."</p><p>She jots down my order and nods before leaving. I huff and stare outside the window next to me. I have to admit, this place didn't look so bad. Sure, the infrastructure wasn't great, but it was no slum. If I hadn't known, I would've assumed this was just another Ward of Tokyo.</p><p>Finding a hideout is gonna be harder than expected. Oh well, at least I went out today.</p><p>I passively stare at the streets until something catches my eye. I turn around a bit and I see a building. What was interesting about it was the fact that a few costumed people went in and out of it. There's a sign on one of the windows, but I can't quite make it out.</p><p>I try to see what's written in the sign when someone taps my shoulder. I turn and see that the waitress was holding a plate with a pastry on it and a cup of water.</p><p>"Oh…sorry about that."</p><p>The waitress looks behind me a bit and her eyes widen. "I get it, seeing a Pro Hero's agency is something."</p><p>"Pro Hero agency?" I ask, accepting the croissant and cup from her.</p><p>"Yeah, that's Manual's agency. He was just caught taking down a small gang, so he's been really popular around these parts lately."</p><p>Manual, huh? Never heard of him. Then again, I'm not a hero fanboy like some of my classmates.</p><p>"Not just that, but the way he's so humble just makes a girl want to squeal, you know?" she sighs dreamily. "I'm really lucky we have a Hero like him. One of these days I'm gonna invite him to the café!"</p><p>She pumps her fist in determination before she spots me looking at her and blushes. "Ah, sorry about that. Do you need anything else?"</p><p>"Uh…no, thank you." She quickly walks away.</p><p>I take a bite of my croissant – good taste, a little too crunchy – and spare a glance to the now-identified agency. <em>'Heroes…'</em></p><p>…If I really am going to do this, I need to think of a way to deal with the Heroes. If I'm successful, then one of them will come after me. I really don't think I could deal with one of them. They have either really strong Quirks, or they're very resourceful with them; not to mention the years of training they have under their belt. Fighting them head-on won't work.</p><p>"<em><strong>I share thy concern, but I do not believe we should be worried."</strong></em></p><p>This time I barely jumped out of my seat. I need to get used to that. <em>'What do you mean?'</em></p><p>"<em><strong>From what I have seen from the Valley and thy thoughts, these Heroes like fame and attention. They prefer a spectacle, a grand battle. They wouldn't pay attention to anything slithering in the shadows, at least not until it creates a large enough mess."</strong></em></p><p>'<em>So…we lay low, be discreet, and if the Heroes start chasing us…we'll cross that bridge when we get to it.'</em></p><p>"<em><strong>In a manner."</strong></em></p><p>'<em>Hmm. Good point.' </em>I open my mouth to take another bite when I notice there's nothing in my hand. Wow, that croissant was small. I drink from the cup and catch the waitress's eye.</p><p>"Thanks for that, can I have the bill?"</p><p>"Sure thing." She pulls out a slip of paper and I look it over. Huh, real cheap here. That's good. I pull out some yen from my wallet and she gives me back the change.</p><p>"Thank you, come again!"</p><p>I wave to her as I step back out. I stare again at the agency building and sigh. Time to keep looking again.</p><p>"<em><strong>Perhaps thou art doing this wrong, contractor."</strong></em></p><p>'…<em>how so?'</em></p><p>"<em><strong>While your ability is impressive, thou are correct with the fact that no-one will simply spout the location of a suitable roost."</strong></em></p><p>Roost?</p><p>"<em><strong>Which is why I suggest this: instead of trying to focus on what thou art hearing, try to focus on what thou art </strong></em><em><span><strong>not</strong></span></em><em><strong> hearing."</strong></em></p><p>…okay, what?<em> 'Try to focus on what I'm not hearing? What do you mean?'</em></p><p>"<em><strong>Think for a moment and thou will understand."</strong></em></p><p>I 'tsk' and look around. Okay, what am I not hearing? People in buildings? Maybe, but I'm not about to enter every building here. People's phone texts? Of course not, that's idiotic. What could it be?</p><p>I rub my chin. What am I not hearing? The only thing that will help me is hearing what people say, so there's nothing else that…</p><p>…</p><p>…</p><p>…</p><p>…wait.</p><p>People? What if…?</p><p>'<em>If I find I place where I don't hear any people, then…that's it!'</em></p><p>I <em>have </em>been searching all wrong!</p><p>I grin as I set out to the streets. Instead of searching in places filled with people, I should be looking in places where there are no people!</p><p>I walk for a couple of minutes and soon enough, an alley appears to my right. I take a quick look to make sure no-one sees me, and I slip inside.</p><p>Ugh…I can't help but feel a shudder as I stare down the dark alley. This is already giving me bad vibes. I inhale and exhale a few times to relax.</p><p>Let's go.</p><p>And so begins my trek down the alleyways of Hosu. <strong>These </strong>looked like places one would think of when they hear 'run-down neighborhood' – garbage strewn all over, cracked walls, even the occasional rat. I was struck by how quieter everything was in these alleys, even with my Quirk making out the faint noises in the background. It's like I stepped into a completely different city.</p><p>Disturbing.</p><p>But…despite my correct assumptions, I didn't see anything that could serve as a hideout. Everything was either garbage bins or backdoors to major buildings.</p><p>An hour or two passed (I didn't really look at my phone) and I was getting frustrated. Sure, I shouldn't expect to find anything on the first try, but <em>still</em>!</p><p>I let out a sigh and lean against a wall. I'm not too sure where I am now, maybe the outskirts of the Ward; I barely hear any noises and the walls look filthier.</p><p>Mmm…maybe I should just-</p><p>
  <em>Clank. Step. Step. Step.</em>
</p><p>I sharply turned my head. Something was coming from the back of the alley. I sidestep and take a peek from behind the corner.</p><p>Oh shit.</p><p>Both of them wore dirty leather jackets and scarves over their faces. One of them was a beefy character, with arms covered with rocks. The other one was thinner, stocky build, and no outer characteristics, but I swore I could hear <em>buzzing </em>coming from behind his scarf. Chains dangled from their belts and the second one had something sticking out of his pocket. They looked like something the dumpster spit out and covered in biker gang trash.</p><p>Not the type of guys I would like to meet.</p><p>I pulled back and pressed myself to the wall. Oh crap, I did <em>not</em> need to be dealing with this right now!</p><p>"<em><strong>Breathe, contractor."</strong></em></p><p>GAH!</p><p>"<em><strong>We will have to work on thy reaction, but for now, relax."</strong></em></p><p>Relax? Now!? When I have two shmucks coming toward me!?</p><p>"<em><strong>Remember yesterday. Calm thyself, and let thy form sink into the shadows."</strong></em></p><p>Sink into the–!? Oh. Right.</p><p>The thug from yesterday didn't see me when he walked past me. I take another deep breath and keep myself pressed to the wall. The footstep's pace didn't change. That was good. Okay, how do I do this?</p><p>"<em><strong>Think of darkness. Of silence. Let those thoughts be at the forefront of thy mind. Allow thyself to let the shadows cover you."</strong></em></p><p>Darkness…silence…maybe a place? My room? No, too distracting? The Collection? Same, and too bright. The alley? Not exactly quiet. So what –</p><p>
  <em>The sky was a dull gray, with only the feeblest of sunlight seemingly penetrating the clouds.</em>
</p><p>Oh…that could work.</p><p>I allow my mind to clear and focus on the image of that desolate place. It might sound hard, but to me, it's kind of like focus on a voice, only with an image.</p><p>I don't feel anything different. I look down at myself and I don't see anything strange. Did it work?</p><p>The steps finally reach the corner. Okay, the moment of truth.</p><p>The two thugs walk past the alley, their eyes darting in every direction. The thin one stopped for a moment at the mouth of my alley, and my breath nearly hitches. Calm down Ritsu, don't panic until he starts chasing you. He can't see you.</p><p>If he chases you, then panic – and run.</p><p>The thug looks down the alley with grey, narrowed eyes before shaking his head and grunting – there definitely was buzzing! – to his comrade. The big one nodded, and they headed away in silence.</p><p>I listen to their steps echoing down the alley until they fade. I let out another breath. Okay, now I –</p><p>"<em><strong>Wait."</strong></em></p><p>…what now?</p><p>"<em><strong>I want thee to keep searching, but maintain thy Concealment."</strong></em></p><p>Maintain my what? Is that what it's called? Concealment?</p><p>He didn't answer.</p><p>I let out a frustrated sigh. Okay…keep the Concealment. I keep the image of the Valley of Death in my mind, slightly scrunching my forehead. I take a step. One. Two. Three. Hm, maybe it's not as hard as I –</p><p>AAH!</p><p>I recoil as a stinging sensation enters my brain, like a red-hot needle.</p><p>"<em><strong>Focus."</strong></em></p><p>What the hell!? What was that for!?</p><p>"<em><strong>Motivation."</strong></em></p><p>What kind of motivation is that!? AAH! I grasp my head and draw in a sharp breath. Okay, okay, just…stop.</p><p>"<em><strong>Maintain thy focus. If thou consider that pinprick pain, I lament for thy future."</strong></em></p><p>…okay, red flag.</p><p>I focus on the image again and clench my teeth, taking a few more steps. What's the problem here – AAH! Fine! I keep walking and clear my head. I take a turn and try to activate my Quirk, but I feel my mental image fading. Damn it, why is this so difficult!?</p><p>"<em><strong>Do not expect to succeed on the first try, contractor. Thine ability requires focus, which thou art dedicating to the Concealment. For now, I shall act as thy ears."</strong></em></p><p>…okay, first you're helping me, next torturing me, then helping me again. Make up your mind!</p><p>No response. Great.</p><p>I grumble and keep walking, keeping the image in my mind. What felt like another hour passed by, and it was one of the most stressful hours I had ever experienced. I felt like I was walking through water sometimes, and every time I lost focus, I got another mental sting, leaving me to swear again.</p><p>I didn't have any direct encounters with thugs like before, but I did sometimes see a few shadows passing by – they paid me no mind.</p><p>I must have been going in circles because at some point I saw the entrance to another alley I swore I passed by. Okay, that's it.</p><p>"GAH! Stupid, freakin' – what the hell am I looking for, huh!?" I yell as I smack the wall. I was losing my concentration, but I was too cranky to care.</p><p>"Great job Ritsu, <em>really</em> great job! You're chasing ghosts, really fits you, and you don't even know what they look like! What were you thinking, just wander around a shady town and hope that some –</p><p>CLANG.</p><p>I look up to see that my fist had hit a rusty door. I blink dumbfounded at it.</p><p>…okay, if God/Allah was real, he was bullshitting me.</p><p>The building that it was attached to looked like an office building, though I had no idea which one. I stare at the dust-covered handle with trepidation. There was no lock to be seen. It couldn't be that simple, could it?</p><p>I push down the handle (ugh, that feels horrible) and try to pull the door. It didn't budge. I try pushing next, only to get a slight wiggling, but no more. I bite my lip as I try pushing harder. I did not slog through an entire city just to return home empty-handed!</p><p>The door creaks under my pushing, which was surprising in hindsight considering my pathetic strength. I press my entire body against it and push harder. Come on!</p><p>Damn it. Let's try something else. I take a few steps backward, inhale and dash at the door…</p><p>…only to fall onside the moment I hit.</p><p>"Uugh…" I nurse my aching head. "Fuck my life."</p><p>"<em><strong>Language. Now get up and let us see the fruits of thy labor."</strong></em></p><p>I grunt as I push myself up. I turn around to see that the door had thankfully not flown off its hinges. Great. I stare into the darkness and cover my nose at the amount of dust. Doesn't look like anyone's been here in years. I pull out my phone and turn on the flashlight, letting it illuminate the dark space. A flight of stairs lay before me, leading to further darkness.</p><p>…</p><p>…</p><p>…heh.</p><p>I'm insane. This is the only way I can explain today.</p><p>'<em>As you stare into the abyss, the abyss stares back…'</em></p><p>"<em><strong>Indeed. Art thou ready?"</strong></em></p><p>Am I ready? No<em>.</em></p><p>Out of my mind? Possibly.</p><p>Excited? …Yes.</p><p>With a step, I head into the abyss.</p><p>The stairs creak and groan under my feet. The darkness seems to close in on me, dimming the flashlight. I soon reach the bottom of the stairs.</p><p>I shine my light around the room I'm in. I make out a few items - a chair and a desk among them - but the sheer darkness of the room barely lets me form a complete picture.</p><p>"<em><strong>Put on the mask, contractor."</strong></em></p><p>I blink. Now? I shrug and set down my backpack, pulling the mask from it and gently placing it on my face. Like in the Valley, it doesn't fall off.</p><p>I draw in a surprised breath. I saw everything. The room was big, a little bigger than Mom's conference room at work. Indeed, a desk and chair were in one part of the room. A worn-out sofa lay on the opposite wall. A small coffee table was strewn on the floor, missing a limb. The floor was no-doubt as dusty as a tomb, but there were no cracks or shards to speak. In front of me was a door with a faded 'exit' sign. Amazing.</p><p>Only…the outlines of everything were blue, sometimes green.</p><p>I stare at the room, taking in my new sight when I notice a small vent on the ceiling. I wonder if…?</p><p>Damn it all. Faint voices from the vent. I can't figure out what they're saying, they seem to be a few stories up. But this place is used, so I can't stay –</p><p>"<em><strong>No. This place shall be suitable for our needs."</strong></em></p><p>'…<em>did you not hear the voices?'</em></p><p>"<em><strong>Yes, and I care not. In fact, this shalt be thy new regimen."</strong></em></p><p>With those words, a black mist suddenly appeared and swirled in front of me, seemingly drawing in the shadows of the room…no, it was making shadows. I hear the door upstairs shut itself with a clang. Like from behind a sinister curtain, the terrifying visage of Hassan i-Sabbah formed in front of me.</p><p>"<strong>Before we proceed, mine contractor, I ask thee one more time: do thou wish to walk the path of the shadows and take on the mantle of a Hashashin, and all that it entails?"</strong></p><p>I clench my fist and bite my lip, hidden behind the mask. Do I?</p><p>Do I really want to gaze into the abyss? Do I really want it to stare back at me?</p><p>I could walk out. He won't punish me. He'll understand.</p><p>'<em>We have to be better than the criminals, Ogawa-kun.'</em></p><p>
  <em>If he was willing to target a high-schooler like me, what else could he do? And to who?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He fell to the ground. Blood leaked from his back.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>I felt nothing.</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>…</p><p>…</p><p>…</p><p>…heh, I take it back; I really am insane.</p><p>"…yes."</p><p>"<strong>Until we find a more suitable location, this shall be our Alamut. Here I shalt train thee in the arts of the fida'i, and this is thy first task" </strong>he tapped his enormous sword on the ground. <strong>"As long as we are here, thou will maintain thy Concelament at all times. Be it in combat, meditation, or otherwise, thou shalt conceal thyself until thou can do it without thinking. Falter…and I trust thou know what will happen."</strong></p><p>…I gulp. This was really gonna hurt.</p><p>"<strong>Hurt?"</strong> A low, menacing chuckle seemed to echo in the room. <strong>"Oh, foolish contractor, when I am done with thee…</strong></p><p>…<strong>you will </strong><em><strong>long </strong></em><strong>for pain."</strong></p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Ritsu Ogawa (Assassin - Hassan-i Sabbah)</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong><span>Stats:</span> Too human to be measured.</strong>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <strong>Skills:</strong>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <strong>Presence Concealment D: The ability to hide from others. A poor level for any Assassin.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Throwing (Dagger) B and Throwing (Retrieval) B: The expertise for throwing projectile weapons; in this case, daggers. His daggers have the same destructive power as firearms when thrown, typically spelling certain death for human targets. He can retrieve them to his hand with but a mere gesture</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Information Erasure D: Erases all traces of the user's identity, physical or digital, after leaving a scene of assassination. It does not hide the user's identity in any other situation, and clues can be pieced together to deduce identity. If the user's identity is discovered, then the effects of the skill vanish.</strong>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <strong>Noble Phantasm:</strong>
  </span>
  <strong> ?</strong>
</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>So, what do you all think? We meet Ritsu's mom, and he has found a hideout.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Now the choice for the pairing is still available. I think I've said it before, but girls from BNHA and the Type-Moon franchise are acceptable here. This is not just something I want to throw in the story, so if you suggest a pairing, give a good reason why she would be compatible (no yaoi); THIS WILL AFFECT THE STORY, so be considerate!</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Now, at the suggestion of a reviewer, I have added 2 theme songs, one is Ritsu's, and the other is for an upcoming important character. Here they are:</strong>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <strong>You Want It Darker by Leonard Cohen - Ritsu Ogawa (Assassin)</strong>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <strong>X, The Legend Remastered: Megaman Zero - ?</strong>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <strong>Any guess as to who the second one is? It's not Zelretch!</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>If you like this story, go check out my other ones on my profile along with my challenges! My Harry's Family of Chaldea received fanart!</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>This story is now posted on Spacebattles and AO3, along with the aforementioned story, so spread the word!</strong>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <strong>Read and Review! REVIEW!</strong>
  </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>I do not own Fate or BNHA, except any OCs. As usual, read the AN at the bottom.</strong>
</p><hr/><p>"Okay, Mom! I'm going out!"</p><p>"Sure. I take it then you're going to come late again?" she asks.</p><p>I shrug. "What can I say, I've grown to like this."</p><p>She looks up from her laptop and shoots me a smirk. "If I'd known this would get you out of the house more often, I should've signed you up for a gym years ago."</p><p>I mock-shudder as I finish tying my shoes. "And make me talk to more people? No thanks."</p><p>"Oh, grow up. Being social isn't a bad thing. Helps you stay level-headed and prevents you from becoming one of those NEETs." I inwardly cringe at the mental image that pops up. Yeah, being a fat, smelly adult stuck at home all the time doesn't seem very appealing. The fat and smelly part, not the staying-at-home part.</p><p>Hypocritical, I know.</p><p>"But still, when you asked me to sign you up, I was a little surprised. Is it a girl at school? Or did eating so much ice-cream over the years finally catch up on you?"</p><p>I rise up and give her my best 'I am not amused' look. "In order: no, I'm not <em>that</em> lucky and two, my ice-cream has nothing to do with this."</p><p>She keeps smirking. What? It's true!</p><p>My mother's grin then shrinks down to a smile. "Heh, whatever you say. I have to ask though, why Hosu? I know that there aren't any gyms in the neighborhood, but why not pick something a little closer to home?"</p><p>Luckily, I prepared an answer. "I heard good things about it from the other kids. Besides, Hosu's not <em>that</em> far." Both of those were true.</p><p>She raises an eyebrow. "Using your Quirk in public, mister?" She wags her finger. "Tut-tut. Didn't I teach you not to eavesdrop?"</p><p>"What makes you think I used my Quirk?"</p><p>"One, I'm your mother, and I know that you would never start talking to other kids unless you really needed something. Two, you said a moment ago: 'And make me talk to more people? No thanks.'"</p><p>I grumble and she leans back, triumphant. Damn lawyer skills. Her Quirk just made them worse.</p><p>"Do you have everything? Water, a towel, earphones?"</p><p>I lift up my new gym bag. "Yeah."</p><p>"Good boy. Have fun!"</p><p>I sling the bag over my shoulder, wave to her, and head out the door. The air was nice and warm, despite it being the middle of September. The leaves were starting to turn brown and the coats would soon be worn by everyone. The noise of the masses thrummed distantly in the background, providing a little bit of 'urban atmosphere', as I call it. All in all, a pleasant day.</p><p>Unfortunately, the one squad car in the distance kind of ruined the image.</p><p>I try not to swallow as I pass the alley. Just as I suspected, it didn't take long for the police to find the thug's body. It was a mess when they first came; yellow tape, forensics teams, and a whole lot of officers swarmed the neighborhood. I think there might've been a Hero involved, but I wasn't sure. Eventually though, they all left, with one car coming in every couple of days to check the site. For a few days, I was nervous as hell. I took the knife with me when I left the alley, but I thought for sure that I left a footprint or two, maybe even a hair. But the police never came knocking, not even for a standard questioning.</p><p>I haven't confirmed it yet, but I'd bet my ice-cream allowance that my new teacher had something to do with that.</p><p>I keep a cool façade as I pass the car and head to the train station. The officers don't look to be saying anything important. Oh well.</p><p>A train ride later and I arrive in Hosu. I head down the busy street, making sure there are no sudden vehicles or anything of the sort. After walking some more, passing by the various on-goers, I soon stand in front of the alleyway. I take a few steps forward so I'm standing in the shadows, take a deep breath…and let the image of the Valley enter my mind.</p><p>Funny thing about Concealment. Once you start using it frequently (and boy, did I use it frequently – whether by own volition or not), you start to feel a sort of disconnect from the world around you</p><p><em>'</em><strong><em>Ah, sobh bekheir, contractor. Art thou ready to begin today's training?'</em></strong> Hassan's voice greets me.</p><p>
  <em>'Ready as I'll ever be.'</em>
</p><p>
  <em>'</em>
  <strong>
    <em>Very well. Proceed to the amunsh chamber, and we will begin.'</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>That means 'training chamber' in Persian. Whenever he didn't use that antique way of speech, he used his native tongue of Persian. I thought it was Arabic once – when I asked him if it was, the training routine that day was agonizing.</p><p>I take a step forward and-</p><p>"AAHH!" Not again! I slap my head in pain. What was that for!?</p><p>
  <em>'</em>
  <strong>
    <em>Just a reminder.'</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>I grumble in protest but nonetheless tread onwards to the basement -er, training chamber.</p><p>
  <em>'</em>
  <strong>
    <em>Thou art progressing nicely in the art of Concealment. Thine gait is no longer like that of a floundering fish.'</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>A compliment. That was rare.</p><p>
  <em>'</em>
  <strong>
    <em>Now thou walk like a stork.'</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>Aaand it's gone.</p><p>
  <em>'</em>
  <strong>
    <em>Thou are not even close to impressing me, contractor. I have had far more prodigal students than thyself.'</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>'I just started this! You don't exactly expect me to master everything the moment I learn it…right?'</em>
</p><p>
  <em>'</em>
  <strong>
    <em>No, I suppose not. You are not fida'i. Now, focus or receive another reminder.'</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>I shake my head and strengthen my Concealment. Luckily, another reminder didn't come. After a few twists and turns, I stand in front of the familiar rusty door. I open it – this time without ramming it – and head down the stairs, making sure to close the door behind me. Once I arrive at the bottom, I take a deep breath and put on the mask. The room becomes visible to me once more, everything outlined in blue or green. Everything was pushed to the side or stacked in piles, leaving the floor bare.</p><p>Hassan manifested before me, all clad in black.</p><p>
  <em>'</em>
  <strong>
    <em>Let us begin. Step forward.'</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>I did so and a circle of blue light appeared around me. He gestures to me and I speak.</p><p>"This circle is my world. Nothing exists outside of it. Everything I do must be done in the circle."</p><p>He nods. Wispy blue lines appear in front of me and throughout the circle, crisscrossing like spider webs. If anyone else could see them, they would assume that they were like security lasers. They would be wrong.</p><p>"<strong>Let us begin. Ten circuits should be a good start."</strong></p><p>And so begins another day of training, starting off with the most unusual parkour set in the world. I leap up, down, under and over the lines. Most times, they become solid like ropes, but some of them fizzle like air. More often than not I trip and fall, causing me to lose my Concealment and get another jolt of pain in my head. I get up, refocus and keep going. Every now and then, the positions of the lines change, so I'm forced to improvise or trip again. Round and round I go, not even managing a full circuit without falling. All the while Hassan looks at me, motionless.</p><p>After the fifteenth circuit, he tells me to stop.</p><p>I hunch over and lean on my knees as the lines disappear. I pant like a dog as I try and steady my breath. "Damn…this…is…getting…annoying."</p><p>"<strong>I care not. Regain thy breath and perform the stretching exercises I have taught thee. We will move on to another set."</strong></p><p>I try very hard not to grumble as I try and wipe the sweat from my forehead, only to feel cold bone. Right.</p><p>"Uh, sensei?"</p><p>One of the wraith's eyes dims. Looking back, I would realize that he was raising an eyebrow. "<strong>If thou must refer to me by a title, then refer to me as 'Mawla' – the equivalent of your 'sensei'. It is what the Order referred to me as, and so thou shalt as well."</strong></p><p>I bite my lip, holding in the question of why he didn't say that before. I did not want to make this even more painful than it was. "Okay…Mawla," the Persian word rolls roughly off my tongue. "Why aren't we doing this outside? I'm supposed to parkour on buildings, so wouldn't it be better to practice <em>on</em> buildings?"</p><p>"<strong>Thou art not ready yet to practice on structures. Here, thou need to grasp the basics of the art before moving to the field. In addition, the risk of injury is greater out there than in this <em>amnush</em> chamber, especially if thou fall."</strong></p><p>I nod. "Okay, good point." Falling from a building wasn't something a few hidden bandages could cover. "I should remember to start looking up first-aid techniques."</p><p>"<strong>Indeed. Now, again." </strong>The lines appeared again.</p><p>After two more circuit sets, he makes me do sets of modern exercises, like push-ups and sit-ups. Not that me being more familiar with them helped me – in fact, the pain felt even worse. P.E at school had nothing on this. At least I didn't have to use Concealment this time.</p><p>I lie down panting after a particularly burning set. Is there something here that adds to the pain or am I really <em>that</em> out of shape!?</p><p>"<strong>No, I am simply a good instructor."</strong></p><p>"Not helping!" I hiss.</p><p>"<strong>I believe otherwise. Rest for a few more moments, then strip."</strong></p><p>I freeze. "What?"</p><p>"<strong>I thought I spoke clearly. Strip to thy undergarments."</strong></p><p>I look up at him with a twitch and take a deep breath. "…why?"</p><p>"<strong>For higher difficulty. If thou keep properly exercising, the cold shall not bother thee."</strong></p><p>"…I am seriously starting to doubt your methods."</p><p>"<strong>Thou will not always have the comfort of full clothing or armor to aid thee. It may become damaged and leave you vulnerable. In the end, it is up to thee to finish the mission, regardless of the state of thy clothing."</strong></p><p>…he had a point. Damn him and his perfectly logical explanations! Still, shouldn't there be something wrong with this?</p><p>"<strong>I do not recall thee training an order of Assassins that lasted centuries after thy death because of thy teachings."</strong></p><p>My eyes widened and my jaw dropped. Did he just…did the cold, emotionless wraith of Hassan-I Sabbah crack a joke!?</p><p>He tapped his cane - that appeared from nowhere – on the ground and a burst of darkness flooded the hall, sending chills down my spine.</p><p>"<strong>I did not tell thee to dawdle."</strong></p><p>I gulp and quickly nod. I quickly strip down, leaving everything on but my boxers and shoes. I shiver as I start to feel the cold air prickle my skin. Not caring about my discomfort, Hassan taps his cane and lines appear once more.</p><p>"<strong>Begin. Three sets of ten."</strong></p><p>Oh, how I was mistaken to think that the circuits before were painful. These ones, with me running around nearly naked? This was borderline torture. The cold from the air and the floor – as a result of my continuous falls of course – made it even more difficult to maintain Concealment. The pains in my head that followed did nothing to numb the cold. If this was a P.E class or some fitness routine, like the ones they show in gyms, I would've quit a long time ago. But despite the pain, I didn't quit.</p><p>"<strong>Hmm. I must confess, contractor, I expected thee to give up by the third circuit."</strong></p><p>"What…can I…say…" I reply, panting as I lean on a wall. "I can be…very…stubborn." I try to wipe my forehead again before swearing; again with the mask!</p><p>"<strong>I can see that. It means I will just have to make sure thou art extra diligent in thy training."</strong></p><p>I half-heartedly grumble.</p><p>"<strong>Contractor, if thou permit me, this wraith has a question to ask thee."</strong></p><p>I blink. This was strange; asking me for permission? "Um…sure, Mawla. What is the question?"</p><p>"<strong>Before we left thy house today, I glimpsed a thought in thy mind. What exactly is thy matriarch's ability? Is it like thine, with enhanced hearing?"</strong></p><p>Mom's power? Why would he want to – oh, wait. Of course.</p><p>"Well, sort of. She calls it "Selective Hearing". Basically, she can focus on a person and hear whatever they do, like their heartbeat or blood flow. The range isn't very big, but it really helps with her job."</p><p>"<strong>She is a lawspeaker, no?" </strong>Hassan asked and rubbed the bottom of his mask. "<strong>Yes, such an ability is very useful when it comes to discerning truth. But thou see where my concern lies, right?"</strong></p><p>I nod. "Yeah, but don't worry. I've got it covered; she won't find out about us."</p><p>"<strong>How so?"</strong></p><p>I let myself smirk a little. "I've lived with her long enough to learn how to avoid her little lie detector. As long as what I'm telling has a measure of truth in it, she won't know the difference. Like, you know that I really am going to the gym, just not as frequently as she thinks."</p><p>"<strong>I see, I see. A half-truth then?"</strong></p><p>"Pretty much, yeah."</p><p>"<strong>Hmm. Very well. I shall dwell on this later, but for now, retrieve the knife."</strong></p><p>I grin and I pull the knife out of the bag. I've been wondering when I would get to practice with this.</p><p>"<strong>Calm thy enthusiasm, contractor. A knife is not a toy; it is a weapon, a tool of death. Thou must treat it with respect and listen attentively to my teachings, lest I force thee to run more circuits in the cold."</strong></p><p>I feel the grin leave my face. I have had enough laps for today, please!</p><p>"<strong>Good, thou art paying attention. Now, hear my words." </strong>Hassan's eyes flashed and his voice rose in volume.</p><p>"<strong>A knife is the ideal weapon for any mission of stealth. It is easily concealed, can be as light as a ball of cloth, and can fell any foe in one strike. Even if thou art not an Assassin, a good knife or dagger is always </strong>useful<strong>. My people always carried one, regardless of the circumstance."</strong></p><p>I nod, thinking of the equipment of various Muslim soldiers from that time, having seen many of them in the World Collection. No matter to what side they belonged to, they usually all carried some small blade.</p><p>
  <strong>"But any common man can swing a knife like a savage; a true warrior wields it as an extension of his arm, striking fast and true, like the scorpion and his poisonous tail. He does not strike at the first thing he sees; he finds the weakest point on the body, a gap in the armor, any point that can be used to his advantage, and only then -"</strong>
</p><p>He is suddenly in front of me, my knife in his hand and poised under my chin.</p><p>"<strong>He goes for the kill."</strong></p><p>"WHA!" I leap backwards, clutching my throat. My eyes widen. When did he – when did he move!?</p><p>"<strong>Hmm. It seems we shall have to work on thy reaction time as well. If any of my weaker students were here, they would have killed thee before thou could blink." </strong>He flips the knife and holds it out, holding the blade itself. I rub my throat and look at him, the fear not fading from my gut. Heh, guess he's not the founder of the Assassins for nothing. Before I take a step forward though, I decide to try something. I raise my arm and focus on the knife, clearing my head of any stray thoughts. A few seconds later, the weapon starts to vibrate in Hassan's hand. I slightly bring my fingers together, trying to rip it out of his arm, but then he lets go and it flies into my hand.</p><p>"<strong>Very good," </strong>he nods. "<strong>It seems as though thou have started to study by thyself. Commendable. Perhaps there is hope for thee yet."</strong></p><p>I ignore the pseudo-insult and ready myself, bending my knees and settled into what I thought was a combat stance.</p><p>"<strong>But it seems like thou still have a ways to go."</strong></p><p>Ouch.</p><hr/><p>
  <em>'Seriously, I'm eating right now. Can't this wait?'</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"</em>
  <strong>
    <em>No."</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>I grumble again but then bite down my lips as another zap fries my brain. I almost rub my forehead but back down at the last second. I really don't want to spoil my appetite.</p><p>But the yakitori seemed like an afterthought in my mouth as the cacophony of voices echoes in my head. Way to ruin a good meal.</p><p>
  <em>"</em>
  <strong>
    <em>If thou do not cease thy whining, thy 'good meal' will end up on the floor. I do not think I need to tell thee how useful thy ability is for our profession."</em>
  </strong>
</p><p><em>'Obviously,' </em>I roll my eyes. <em>'But while I'm eating? Can't we just go to a mall or a park, like last time?'</em></p><p>
  <em>"</em>
  <strong>
    <em>It is called multitasking, and this is just the barest example of what it can entail. And before thou ask, I do not want thou to rely on Concealment too much. Being another random face in the crowd can sometimes be a better cloak than invisibility."</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>I swallow the chicken and cringe at the words coming out of the gaggle of teenage girls in one of the booths. Is grading the hotness of boys hard-wired into the female species' genetic code? True, boys did it too, but the girls were just so…loud.</p><p>
  <em>'Fair point. But since when knowing what makeup some random girl uses is useful information!?'</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"</em>
  <strong>
    <em>At this specific case? It isn't. Most of the information you hear is useless and inane. The key is to sort out what you can use."</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>A sigh escapes my lips as I keep listening. Yeah, everything I've heard up until now was useless, including the previous times I did this little exercise. I didn't expect to get lucky, but the banality of people really seems to get me. And Mom wonders why I'm such a loner.</p><p>A few minutes later, I walk out of the restaurant with a full stomach, dry mouth, and lighter wallet. I start heading back to the training room while letting my gaze roam across Hosu. People rushing about, cars speeding by…even on a weekend, things never calmed down. I kick a piece of gravel away and scratch my head. Well, no use delaying it. Wonder what Hassan - erm, Mawla – has in store for me this time. I really hope it's not more of that circle. My legs are still sore from all the jumping –</p><p>BOOM!</p><p>I sharply look up and see that there is smoke coming out of one of the buildings, two floors above ground level. Me and my big mental mouth.</p><p>A series of blasts echoed from the new hole in the glass tower as bits of debris were sent flying outside. A crowd started to gather in front of the area, and I started to hear police sirens in the distance. I rush over to the crowd in no time. Like the others around me, I pull out my phone and activate the camera, but not necessarily for pictures. Unfortunately, the zoom function doesn't help me see what is going on. I still snap a few photos though, just in case.</p><p>The screeching of tires draws my attention to the sight of several police cars lined up in front of the crowd as officers stepped out. Huh, that was fast. Did they know about this beforehand?</p><p>Only one way to find out.</p><p>I run around the crowd, dodging any newcomers, and approach the nearest cab. I stop and stand behind someone close enough to an officer, who started barking into his walkie-talkie. I turn on my Quirk and hiss at the sheer level of noise. God, my ears feel like they're bleeding!</p><p>Still, I take a deep breath and hone in on the cop.</p><p>"-I repeat, we have a potential hostage situation up here! The Yakuza just started shooting everything in sight! Yes, I know that there are officers up there, but it's starting to become a bloodbath! Manual is on his way? Great, great. Five more squad cars should be here, so prepare the-"</p><p>I quickly turn my Quirk off and rub my ears. Damn, that hurts. I roll the information around in my head. A hostage situation, probably a Villain or two, Pro Hero Manual is coming. Yakuza. Organized crime. I'm surprised they're still around, what with all the Villains. Still, there's a situation here. What can I do with this? I can't take on those guys, not right now. I really should leave, or maybe stay and watch, see the Pro Hero in action. It might be useful intel for the future.</p><p>
  <em>'But what if there's a better way?'</em>
</p><p>I try to ignore that little voice, but the more I keep staring at the giant hole, the more I realize that I don't have much time.</p><p>I shake my head in dismay. Well, didn't I already call myself insane when I started this whole thing?</p><p>I open my bag and discreetly pull out the mask. Once I make sure no-one is looking, I slip it on and let the Concealment flow over me. Time for the moment of truth.</p><p>I close my bag and wiggle until I'm right in front of the officer, who was trying to calm some people down. I hold in my nerves and walk right past him. He didn't even glance in my direction.</p><p>I let a grin slip on my masked face and rush through the open doors.</p><p><em>"</em><strong><em>I take it thou have a plan?"</em></strong> asks Hassan.</p><p><em>'Well, you are the one who told me just now that most of the time whatever I overhear is useless.'</em> I reply, opening the stairway doors and starting to climb. <em>'So I figure, why not just ask someone directly?'</em></p><p>
  <em>"</em>
  <strong>
    <em>Hmm, indeed. What dost thou plan on asking and how?"</em>
  </strong>
</p><p><em>'Wait and see, Mawla.' </em>Normally, I would've gotten a sting in my head for that comment. I hope my luck holds out.</p><p>By the time I enter the second floor, the explosion noises started to lessen. I rush through the floor, following the yells. I soon arrive at the battle scene – and it was more or less what I expected.</p><p>On one side, there was a group of officers holding firearms, hiding behind some desks formed into makeshift barricades. One of them took deep breaths every time he spoke, so he was most likely injured. On another side, namely, the one close to me, a number of people dressed like the thug I killed held firearms of their own, aimed at the officers. The one who seemed to be their leader wore what looked like a modernized plague mask with a broad-brimmed hat.</p><p>I couldn't help but shiver. There was something off about him.</p><p>"Well, this seems like a fine mess we got ourselves into, isn't it boys?" he asked. His men – five of them – responded by either a grunt or a nod. "Nevertheless, I cannot fail Leader. And if I fail, you fail. Which is why you should brace yourselves."</p><p>He pulled out a small, black sphere. I feel my eyes widen. Was he really going to…?</p><p>"A shame this is not incendiary, but we will have to make do. You two and I will rush over there and push back the cops while you two leave from there." He pointed to the door next to me. "We will meet downstairs in the basement. Our pickup should be there."</p><p>I pull back and press myself against the wall, quickly pulling out my knife. I was still doubting if this would work, but it was now or never!</p><p>One resounding explosion later, I hear two sets of feet rapidly approaching me. I let the first one pass me, but then I grab the second one by his arm and throw him down on the ground next to me. He was lighter than I thought, but maybe he didn't have time to resist. Before he can yell, I cover his mouth and press the knife to his neck, just enough to draw a drop of blood. He quickly freezes.</p><p>Smoke starts pouring out of the doorway. This should give me some time.</p><p>"<strong>Now, here is what's going to happen. I'm going to remove my hand, and you will stay quiet unless I tell you to talk. If you scream or lie to me, I'll slice your neck open. Understand?"</strong></p><p>Cool, a voice mask. Sounds intimidating too.</p><p>The man nods and I remove my hand. "<strong>Good. Now, who are you and who are your friends?"</strong></p><p>The man gulped, his eyes darting to and fro. "W-we're Shie Hassaikai."</p><p>The name is unfamiliar to me but I have a good guess on what it is. "<strong>Yakuza? What are you doing here?"</strong></p><p>"O-our boss wanted us to shoot up this p-place. He said he needed something."</p><p>"<strong>What did he need?"</strong></p><p>"I don't know." I press the knife further. "I don't know! He said that if we ask any questions he'll kill us!"</p><p>I pull the knife back slightly. Whoever their boss is (or bosses), he sounded competent. Ah, nobody said this was gonna be easy.</p><p>"<strong>Is there any place where your kind meets up? Any contacts?"</strong></p><p>He smacks his lip, his frightened stare starting to narrow, but a further press of the knife gets him cuts the attitude. "N-Nine Rings! It's a bar! A lot of the guys like drinking there! I don't know anything else!" he sobbed.</p><p>Nine Rings. A name to remember.</p><p>"Um…can you let me go?"</p><p>I look down at the thug. His spiky hair was sweaty and matted, and his skin had gone pallor. The pleading expression he wore, combined with his pathetic state caused a pang of pity in my chest.</p><p>But that was it.</p><p>"<strong>How long have you been working with the Yakuza?"</strong></p><p>He blinks. "Uh, two years."</p><p>"<strong>Did you do things like this before?"</strong></p><p>"A couple of times," replied the man, looking confused.</p><p>"<strong>Did you kill anyone?"</strong></p><p>The man clammed down and looked to the side. I press the knife again, making him gasp.</p><p>"<strong>Did you kill anyone!?"</strong> I yell.</p><p>"Y-yes!"</p><p>"<strong>Were you forced to?"</strong></p><p>He clammed up again, but I knew what the answer was. It was written as plain as day on his face.</p><p>I grit my teeth. "<strong>Thought so. Tell me, did you ever think about the lives you took?"</strong></p><p>He slowly shook his head.</p><p>"<strong>Then you brought this on yourself. <em>The evening bell has tolled thy name</em>."</strong></p><p>I drop my Concealment and raise my knife. His eyes widen in shock and he starts to mutter: "Sh-Shiniga-"</p><p>I plunge the blade into his throat and pull it to the side, tearing open his throat. He starts choking like a fish out of water, but a few seconds later, he falls still.</p><p>I reactivate the Concealment and stand back up, staring at the bleeding corpse. I killed someone again. This time, he was at my mercy. I chose to kill him.</p><p>But he deserved it. This was what I wanted, right?</p><p>And what did I say at the end?</p><p>I shook my head. I had to get out of here. No use dwelling on it.</p><p>I rush down the stairs and out of the building. This time, I see a fire truck, and standing next to it was Manual, escorting people away. I dodge the cops and run in the direction of the training room. A few minutes later, I lean on the wall of one of the alleyways. I take deep breaths, in and out.</p><p>Wow. That was…exciting, to put it mildly.</p><p>
  <em>"</em>
  <strong>
    <em>I concur. It seems that some of my regimen is showing results."</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>I let out a chuckle. <em>'Sure looks like it.'</em></p><p>
  <em>"</em>
  <strong>
    <em>I will make sure then that the rest of the training is just as productive. But that can wait until next time. Right now, thou possess an important source of information. What do you intend to do with it?"</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>That was a good question. <em>'I don't think I can actually do anything with it right now, Mawla. I don't feel ready enough.'</em></p><p>
  <em>"</em>
  <strong>
    <em>Thou will never be 'ready enough' but thy point is true. Hold on to that information for now and research it. When thy training has progressed to my liking, we will scout this tavern."</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>Tavern? I hold back another chuckle. But this was good. Now that I know a good spot for intel, I could begin my self-imposed mission. I'd be lying to say that I wasn't excited.</p><p>And I did something good today. I killed someone the world would be better off without.</p><p>I only hope that more join him when I really start this.</p><p>My phone then suddenly rings, cutting my train of thought. I look at the number and sigh. Just for today at least, Mom's incoming rant is something that the world (especially me) could do without.</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Ritsu Ogawa (Assassin - Hassan-i Sabbah)</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong><span>Stats:</span> Too human to be measured.</strong>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <strong>Skills:</strong>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <strong>Presence Concealment D: The ability to hide from others. A poor level for any Assassin, but against ordinary criminals it works well.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Throwing (Dagger) B and Throwing (Retrieval) B: The expertise for throwing projectile weapons; in this case, daggers. His daggers have the same destructive power as firearms when thrown, typically spelling certain death for human targets. He can retrieve them to his hand with but a mere gesture</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Information Erasure D: Erases all traces of the user's identity, physical or digital, after leaving a scene of assassination. It does not hide the user's identity in any other situation, and clues can be pieced together to deduce identity. If the user's identity is discovered, then the effects of the skill vanish.</strong>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <strong>Noble Phantasm:</strong>
  </span>
  <strong> ?</strong>
</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Hi! I am back with another chapter! Here we get to see a glimpse of Ritsu's training regimen and he has his first encounter as an Assassin. Exciting, no?</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong><span>READ THIS!:</span><br/>On a more serious note, I really need help with this story. I didn't expect it to become this popular, and it is growing on me. But I need someone who can act as a good beta reader and a sounding board for ideas. I had a lot of trouble making this, and although I had help from TheSwiftest and ArchamWyntier of SpaceBattles, I still need help. So please, if there is anyone who can help me, I welcome it.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>I have created a poll for the pairing on my profile on Fanfiction.Net, so go and check it out. I myself won't guarantee that it will be followed if I think it doesn't fit, but it will help me.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>If you like this story, go check out my other ones on my profile along with my challenges!</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>This story is now posted on Spacebattles and AO3, along with the aforementioned story, so spread the word!</strong>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <strong>Read and Review! REVIEW!</strong>
  </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Well, hope you like it? It's not my number one priority, but I might continue it. Any suggestions for this story are welcome.</p><p>Go check out my profile and see my other stories and challenges!</p><p>Read and Review!</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>